Hunter, Prey
by Macx
Summary: picks up on the events of Fire and Ice, a new player reveals himself


**Hunter, Prey**

by Birgit Staebler

(mac@robyn.rhein-neckar.de)

Michael Knight left the mall and walked to the elevator getting him to underground car park. As he walked down an almost empty corridor, Michael had to smile. He rarely went mall-shopping, but this was Bonnie's birthday and he had wanted to get her something special. Their relationship, something he would have called friendship until a few months back, had developed and though she had told him she wanted to keep work and private life separate, she had not protested overly much to a closer friendship between them. Michael was taking it slowly and he knew it was appreciated.   
He had always thought Bonnie to be a very attractive woman but her behavior had made it clear to him that she was not the least bit interested. That had changed throughout the years, slowly but surely. Okay, so it had taken seven years, but they had both discovered a liking that went beyond a work relationship.   
His trip to the mall had been successful and he felt quite on top of the world.   
Suddenly Michael became aware just how lonely it was all around him. Except for three men, no one was here, and those three men were homing in on him.   
"Excuse me?" one of them called. "Are you Michael Knight?"   
Michael stopped, frowning. "Who are you?"   
"You are Mr. Michael Knight from the Foundation for Law and Government?" he man asked again.   
"Yes, but...."   
"Please don't make this more difficult on yourself," the man said.   
An icy feeling spread through Michael's stomach as he saw the weapons they were suddenly holding. Whatever they were, they weren't particularly friendly, the FLAG driver decided. He moved back.   
"Stop where you are!" one of the three commanded.   
Michael's mind whirled. "Listen..." he started.   
"Shut up!" another of the three growled.   
They closed in on him.   
Michael decided for a frontal assault, hoping to upset the man's balance and surprise the others -- which he did. But the second one jumped him, pinning him to the ground. He struggled, but in vain. The other's strength was superior.   
"What do you want?" he yelled. "Leggo of me!"   
  


The one who seemed to be the leader, came over and regarded him from behind shades, his eyes hidden.   
"Who are you?!" Michael demanded.   
His mind was reaching out for Kitt in a way he had not thought possible a few months ago, but they had trained a lot in the meantime, and stress and fear translated clearly anyway. There was no response at all, not even the slightest flicker of a presence. It was becoming painfully obvious that something was not right here.   
They dragged him to his feet and Michael assessed his situation, deciding it couldn't get worse. He elbowed the man behind him quite viciously, hearing him grunt and gasp for air. Knight shoved him away, making a run for all it was worth. He didn't get far. Something struck him between the shoulder blades.   
I'm shot! he thought, feeling curiously unreal. There was no real pain, simply a sting, then the leaden weight of unconsciousness rushing in. He fell to his knees as the world lost contour.   
Kitt....?!   
He was aware of strong hands grabbing him by the arms and dragging him somewhere. Then even that sensation was gone.

* * *

Kitt felt strange. Something was not right but he couldn't put his virtual finger on it. He ran a system check, then started going through every system again, doing an individual scan. Nothing. Still, he felt strange. Maybe it was because he had been parked down here in the mall's underground car park for an eternity now. Michael had only wanted to go in, buy something and return, and knowing his driver, he was not the person to go window shopping. Michael made wide detours around malls if he didn't have to go there on business.   
Then why was he taking so long?   
Kitt pondered using the link, but that would be an intrusion of privacy and they had agreed that they would never spy on each other. It was easier said then performed because Kitt was tempted to tap into his human partner's mind and simply enjoy the feeling of being close. He was riding in the back of Michael's mind and he knew his friend felt it most of the time, but he had never kicked him out.   
The world of the neuro implant was still new to Kitt and also to Michael. They had had a grace period of a month after the incident in Lava Lakes desert, but after that Michael had started to pace, to feel like locked up, and finally Devon had agreed to send them out on a new mission. It had been an easy one and though Kitt had suddenly started to be overprotective, they had handled each other well. Still, they were not yet good enough at it and Kitt was always tempted to lock onto Michael and monitor him, to learn, to become better.   
Another hour passed and still there was no sign of Michael. Kitt was drawn between using the com link, and maybe interrupting something very important, or the neuro implant, which was an intrusion of privacy. After a long debating session with himself, Kitt finally dropped part of the shield around his end of the implant.   
The feeling of emptiness came without any prior warning. The pain searing through him next nearly fried his circuits and Kitt cried out involuntarily. A white-hot pain rolled over his mind and extinguished every other feeling, every sensation, every thought. He screamed and couldn't stop. All he knew was the pain, the darkness.....   
And then his mind blanked.   
From one minute to the next the pain was gone, replaced by icy cold emptiness. He choked out Michael's name, frantically searching for the link, the opening to the human mind he knew and was connected to, but there was nothing.   
Panic.   
Fear.   
Denial.   
Kitt struggled with his shields, trying to keep the blackness, the sensation of separation, away, but it continued. His frame was shaking badly, scanner alternately flaring or dying completely. Finally the icy coldness inside of him subsided into a hurting emptiness. He felt dazed and hurt, trembling with the reaction to the sudden overwhelming feelings of loss. "Michael...." His voice shook even more. "Michael!"   
Then he lost himself completely.   
The engine came to life and the black TransAm shot out of the underground facility. Luckily there were no pedestrians as he cleared the entrance and went straight through the plastic barrier, parts of it flying everywhere. The honking and shouting of other vehicles and drivers glanced off him as he raced down the street, through red lights and the traffic, finally coming to the ramp to the highway. A police cruiser tried to catch up t the speeding car ten miles later but had to give up, the speed too high, but they got the license plate.   
And FLAG received a call.

* * *

Michael glowered at his captors. He didn't know their names and he had no idea where he was. The apparent leader leaned against a desk, arms crossed in front of his chest, studying him. He was dressed in expensive looking, black clothes. He wore a full beard and his hair was very long in the neck. He had bound it into a pony tail. As long as he didn't turn you were deceived into believing his hair was short. Michael guessed he was in his late thirties. At his side stood a blond individual in a dark blue overall. He was the one who had tackled Michael. Now he regarded him with complete indifference. Additionally to that he was guarded by two men he didn't know but who looked like your normal thug. Built like a brick wall, probably as dense, and following orders without questions.   
Michael had woken some time ago with an immense headache, finding himself in an empty room. There was a dull pain between his shoulder blades where he had been struck by the bullet. No, not a bullet, he had decided, as he had fingered the spot carefully. It felt like a bruise and since he had had no mirror in the cell, he had been unable to ascertain it. Judging from the fact that he was still alive, though dizzy and nauseous, he had guessed it must have been a tranquilizer dart. He had tried to contact Kitt, but this attempt had been greeted by something akin to static that was becoming a painful background noise now. Someone had come after his waking and had led him to this room, heavily guarded.   
The leader stepped away from the desk and walked a few steps up and down in front of his prisoner, eyeing him.   
"Who are you?" Michael demanded.   
The other smiled. "None of your concern, as we told you before."   
"Then what do you want with me?"   
The smile widened. "Oh, a lot, Mr. Knight." He leaned forward. "We know about that little chip you have in your mind to the Knight Industries Two Thousand." The grin turned feral. "And we are going to use that chip to get what we want."   
Michael gritted his teeth.   
"You think we can't do it?" the man went on. "Well, we can. Why do you think you can't use the chip? I know you tried. I can see it in your eyes, but it doesn't work, right? Because we don't want it to." He chuckled and made a flourishing gesture toward the blond. "My associate is taking care of that."   
Michael froze. They. Had. What?!   
Kitt!   
It was like running into a mental wall of static noise and he gasped. He felt a headache creep up on him. The stranger grinned.   
"I told you."   
Michael paled a bit. "What do you want?!" he hissed.   
"What do you think we want? The Knight Two Thousand, of course! And I will get it because you are mine now."   
"You are insane," Michael whispered.   
The eyes of the man turned icy. "Don't anger me, Mr. Knight. When the Knight Two Thousand is mine you will be superfluous. I might let you live, but only if you behave."   
Michael felt coldness spread inside of him. The man was insane!   
"You will be a tool for us, nothing more, nothing less. Your life depends on my will!" He bent over Michael. "Feel honored, Mr. Knight, for you are part of a much greater cause!" He straightened again and gestured at the two thugs. They pulled Michael to his feet. "We will meet again, Mr. Knight, after my friends have shown you a few sights. Enjoy your stay....."

* * *

The Semi stopped at the ramp leading down onto the grassy field beneath the highway that was running overhead. Old containers, car wrecks and debris lay around here, and some small trees grew at random. It looked like a miniature waste dump and that was what it probably was. The security fence cutting access to the area off was ripped open and wide enough to allow a car to pass.   
Bonnie carefully stepped out of the trailer of the Semi and looked around. Peter, the driver, got out as well and nodded at her that he would be a few steps behind, just in case. The call about a black sports car with a license plate registered to FLAG speeding uncontrolled and dangerously on the highway had come in about half an hour earlier. Hailing Kitt had been no success and hailing Michael had been greeted by equally no result. Devon had ordered Kitt to be traced and they had finally arrived here, far away from the mall where Michael had said he had wanted to go.   
Rounding the base of one pillar supporting the highway above, Bonnie discovered who she had been looking for.   
"Kitt?" she called out, approaching the car.   
Kitt was covered in dust and there were scratches along one side of his car body. They were paint scratches, as if he had scraped past something and it had left its traces. The car as such was not damaged, the result of the molecular bonded shell, but there were blatantly obvious signs that Kitt's journey here had been marked by unpleasantness.   
"Kitt, it's me, Bonnie. What are you doing here? Where is Michael?"   
The scanner was dark and maybe she was imagining it, but Kitt was shaking. She closed the distance and gently touched the dirty car. She peered into the driver's cabin, afraid to see Michael slumped there, maybe hurt, but it was empty. All lights were out as well.   
"Kitt!" she now called. "Please say something! You are scaring me!"   
There was a quiver passing through him and she knew he had heard her. Something must have happened. Something terrible. Or to Michael.   


"Kitt?"   
The voice penetrated the shields around his CPU, chased away the shadows lingering there, and he felt the cold whispers retreat.   
Michael?   
It was his first thought, and hope and desperation clung to it.   
Michael, is that you?   
No sound came out of his voice box and his CPU was shaken by violent tremors, all coming from the oppressing cold in it, the black hole opening wider and wider.   
No, it couldn't be Michael. Michael was gone.   
"Kitt, it's me, Bonnie. What are you doing here? Where is Michael?"   
Bonnie. It was Bonnie.   
He couldn't pinpoint her location and he thought he felt her hands on his roof, but maybe it was only his imagination.   
"Kitt Please say something! You are scaring me!"   
He powered up slightly, afraid of what he would feel if he came back completely.   
"He's gone," Kitt whispered and his scanner flared in pain and the incredible feeling of being alone.   
"Gone? Who....?" There was a pause of deadly realization. "Michael?" Bonnie then whispered.   
"Yes," Kitt choked, the coldness inside overwhelming his mind. "Leave me alone!" he begged. "Please!"   


Bonnie felt her knees give way and she simply fell against the car. Michael....gone? It couldn't be! It was impossible! How? When? Who had....? Tears welled up in her eyes but she refused to give in. She wouldn't believe in Michael's death until she had seen a body.   
But Kitt.....   
The implant....   
She swallowed heavily.   
No, no, no!!   
"Kitt, we have to get you into the trailer," she finally said, voice as steady as possible.   
"Why?" was the weak, almost pathetic question.   
Bonnie felt it send a stab through her heart. "I want to check you, Kitt," she said gently. "Please, come with me...."   
"It's no use," the AI went on, sounding broken. "He is gone."   
"No, Kitt!" her voice snapped. "I won't believe it!"   
"I feel it, Bonnie. He is gone. It's empty.... So empty....."   
She screwed her eyes shut and breathed deeply. Finally Bonnie opened her eyes and looked at the black car.   
"Kitt, please come with me. Just.... just come, okay? We will find a solution. Maybe your link malfunctioned...."   
"You can't solve death," Kitt replied miserably. "The link is fine, but Michael is.... gone....dead....." He started to shake again, but the engine came to life with a soft hum.   
Bonnie walked slowly backwards, coaxing and asking Kitt to follow her, and finally he did. It was a slow trek to the Semi, one interrupted by Kitt's repeated stops, as if he was terribly afraid to come into familiar surroundings. Bonnie understood him in a way. Everything would be a reminder, but she refused to think of Michael as dead and she told Kitt.   
He refused to understand.   
Finally he was in the trailer. Devon shot Bonnie a questioning look, but she shook her head. Later.

* * *

Michael woke with a groan. His head hurt, as did the rest of his body. There didn't seem to be a place that wasn't bruised or battered. He opened her eyes and looked straight at a gray wall. Blinking, he tried to sit up and was greeted by the room spinning wildly around him. He grabbed the edge of the bed he sat on and breathed deeply. It was a bad idea. Bile rose in his throat and he was just fast enough to turn that he wouldn't vomit on the bed. He hadn't eaten much and the dry heaves were even worse. After some time he felt better, though the headache remained. He looked around the room again. It was bare only furnished with a table, two chairs and the bed he lay on. On the other side of the room was another bed, empty.   
He tried to move a bit and found the pain bearable enough to get up into a sitting position. Then he staggered to his feet, biting back a groan as pain lanced through him again, making him dizzy and nauseous. His knees gave way and he fell onto the floor. That was when he became aware of something around his wrist. It was a kind of cuff, made of flexible plastic and wires. A LED display was lit up in a yellowish green light. What was that thing?   
Suddenly he heard a noise. It was the noise of the door opening. Someone stepped into the room, from the sound of it at least two people.   
"Hello, Mr. Mr. Knight," a voice Michael recognized said mockingly. He gritted his teeth at the sound.   
Michael blinked and willed his eyes to fix on a tall, dark-haired man in a business suit.   
"You're in big trouble," he whispered through the pain.   
"Oh, I'm so scared. I really am. Can you see me shivering?" The man laughed coldly.   
"They will come and look for me," Michael coughed.   
"Oh, really?" the stranger sang, still grinning. "Maybe they will, but by then it will be too late for you and your friend." He chuckled. "Don't hope you will somehow be able to break through my associate's tech toy's shields. You won't."   
"Shields?"   
The other pointed at the wrist cuff. "This, Mr. Knight, is a highly sophisticated disrupter. It blocks preprogrammed transmissions and right now it is blocking those coming from the implant. You might have noticed an electrode sticking to the back of your neck...."   
Michael reached for his neck and came in contact with a small patch sticking to his skin.   
"Don't even think of pulling it off. If you do, it will self-destruct and take you with it."   
"Go to hell!" Michael suggested.   
He leaned forward, his dark eyes glittering icily. "One day maybe, but you'll be there first. Don't worry. We will allow you to see your precious little computer... when we want you to. And it will be soon, very, very soon."   
Michael glared at him.   
"It will be entertaining to watch both of you suffer," the man added with a chuckle.   
"You are mad!" Michael whispered.   
"No. I am a business man, and my business is the Knight Two Thousand."   
"Why?"   
"Because of its beauty, one you probably never appreciate as I do, Mr. Knight. And I'm not talking about the computer brain. I only want the car."   
"You won't get it," Michael grated.   
"I almost have it.... I almost have it."   
With that he turned and left.   
Michael heard the door shut again and closed his eyes. He felt lost and weary, wanting to just give up, surrender to the pain. But there was a small, stubborn and very insistent voice in his head. He gritted his teeth, fighting the feeling of being alone and lost, being on his own. He had grown incredibly used to the presence of Kitt in his mind, a small, constant pressure. It was no longer an alien presence.   
Except for now.   
When it was no more.   
Bastards!   
Pain lanced through him again.   
"Shit!" he whispered. Maybe he had broken a rib or two. His wrist felt like broken as well, though he could still move his fingers.   
He blinked. His vision was still blurry. With an effort, Michael managed to sit. Then he tried standing. It was nearly too much for him. Half walking, half staggering he went over to the door, while colorful spots danced in front of his eyes. He found it shut. Would have been too easy, he thought dryly. The door was made out of metal, which appeared old and had an opening in it that would allow his captors to slide food in. Through this hole he discovered that the door was locked by a simple metal bolt, stuck through a loop. If he could loosen the bolt and slide it through the loop ..... Yes, if. The room he was in was completely empty, except for him and a steel bunk with a mattress, and he wasn't carrying anything remotely useable to help him get out of here.   
Michael half crawled, half staggered back to the bed and started to laboriously examine the mattress. There were no springs in it. It was one of those latex/rubber mattresses, and the bed was made of steel that been welded together. No screws, no springs, no nothing.   
Nothing at all.   
He leaned his head against the wall and felt himself drift off. Closing his eyes Michael surrendered to the semi-consciousness.

* * *

The Semi was moving within the speed limits as it drove down the highway. It was one of many trucks taking the three-lane road, but unlike the others it had no cargo in the usual sense of the word. In its black trailer was a fully functional diagnostics and repair station, a small office with satellite uplink and a tiny kitchen. The rear half was mostly a garage and partly a lab. The garage parking spot was currently occupied by a black sports car, a TransAm.   
Kitt was lost in his own world of terror and darkness, living through the separation over and over again.   
Something tore into him, evoking incredible pain, taking a part with it as it removed its presence.   
Pain.   
Desperation.   
Cold.   
Agony.   
Screams   
Someone seemed to be close by.   
And then he was gone again. Forever.   
Michael?   
More pain.   
More screams.   
Michael, help me!   
His mind seemed to explode.   
Kitt whimpered softly, unable to stop the display of horrifying visions. Michael was gone and with him, part of Kitt had died. The link ended in nothingness now, a frighteningly cold and endless coldness, a black hole that seemed to swallow him step by step. Nothing Bonnie could do or would do was any help.   
He was alone.   
The pain of it was like a hot needle plunged into his most inner self and he had a difficult time not screaming in agony.   
The monitors keeping track of him wailed in alarm and Bonnie was with him in a second, but she couldn't help. No one could. The only person able to take the pain away was ......   
Michael?   
"Kitt, it's Bonnie," she said softly. "Michael is not here."   
He had cried out Michael's name aloud, Kitt now realized, and he shivered with the reactions this evoked.   
"Gone," he whimpered.   
"No, Kitt, no! We don't know that!" she insisted. "Not until... they find a body," she added hesitantly, swallowing back her own pain.   
"Gone," Kitt repeated dejectedly.   
The abject misery in his voice penetrated his self and he shut down all outside sensors. He wanted to be alone.   
Suddenly there was a signal. It came in on a channel he knew. The com link? Michael? Hope rose inside him and he opened the line without hesitation, but instead of the craved for voice of his driver he heard a cold and harsh one, a stranger.   
"I know you can hear me, Knight Two Thousand. I want you to listen. I have your driver and he is alive, but only for now. Come to the following coordinates. Alone. If anyone else is with you or if your homing device is on, Michael Knight is dead."   
Kitt sat there in shock, his CPU awhirl.   
Michael was alive. Not dead, alive. And he was hostage to someone who wanted him. There was no other choice, he knew, even if it probably was the most foolhardy thing to do. He started his engine, tapped into the remote control for the Semi's ramp and opened it.   
"Kitt! Bonnie exclaimed as she watched the ramp open. "What are you doing?" She tried to override the opening mechanism but it was no use.   
Kitt eased himself back out of the Semi while it was driving back to the mansion. "I'm sorry, Bonnie," he said, then switched off the beacon and accelerated.   
"Kitt!"

* * *

The estate was only a few miles away from the coordinates Kitt had been given. It was a huge stone building, a semi-circle driveway leading through a wrought-iron gate with a 'G' on a sand-colored background. The owner was one Roger Geiger, an eccentric millionaire who had inherited the estate and the fortune from his father and grandfather. They had made their money in every business, from railroad to ships to airplanes, and later microprocessing, and he was stock holder in every major company. The late Geiger senior had had a knack for the market and multiplied his father's fortune again. Now Roger Geiger was head of it all and he liked to spend the money on his pleasures, rarely ever thinking about multiplying it. The fortune grew all by itself.   
The interior of the estate was lavishly appointed with brocade drapes and couches, tapestries and family heirlooms handed down from generation to generation. Fifty rooms made up this house, all furnished exquisitely and regularly guest rooms to visiting dignitaries, politicians and other businessmen. One entire wing was given over completely to hunting trophies, art, and galleries of pictures and paintings. Around the estate was a sprawling garden of desert plants, a large swimming pools shadowed by palms and a neatly kept sprawling, lush green garden of plants that needed daily attention by the horde of caretakers employed by Geiger.   
Roger Geiger currently sat in his private office, a room of octagonal shape with a wrought-iron stair leading up to some kind of gallery. The walls were beige limestone and exotically shaped lamps gave it an almost magical touch. The carpet was of a dark red and muffled every step. There were two Oriental wall tapestries, bronzes, and a large and very old world globe. A shelf running floor to ceiling was crammed full of books. Sciences, cryptography, the occult, law, magic and more. It was quite a collection.   
Currently he was not alone in the octagon. A blond man stood in front of the massive desk.   
"Keep Knight sedated," Geiger ordered, wiping his hands on a clean cloth and then throwing it into the waste disposal unit. "I don't mean asleep, but feed him the drug so he won't get stupid ideas, understood?"   
The blond nodded. "Do you think the car will come?"   
Geiger chuckled nastily. "Of course he will." He sat back and steepled his fingers. "He thought his precious driver was gone, but now we give him the chance to save him. He will come, don't worry. Now go and mind your business!"   
He left and Geiger was alone. He touched a button hidden in the smooth surface of his gleaming mahogany desk. The wall to his left slid back, revealing a kind of access tunnel. He stood and walked through it, the room behind the tunnel lighting up as he entered. The light revealed another room the size of a large warehouse with an infinite length and had the general look of a museum. The walls were lined with art, weapons and curiosities. In the middle of the room and generally all over the place were statues, cars, stuffed animals and more, even fighter airplanes. It was the most private and exclusive collection in the world, containing what others had thought lost for centuries, and only one man was allowed to really see it: Roger Geiger. He stood and walked past a Nighthawk and a Stealth Bomber, passed a race car and several paintings until he stood in the middle of the room. There was a pedestal, gleaming marble, a spot light casting a cold, white light on it. The pedestal was empty, but it was engraved.   
'Knight Industries Two Thousand'.   
"Soon," Geiger whispered.

* * *

The attack came fast and completely unexpected. Kitt was following the instructions, driving along a rather lonely highway, aiming for the coordinates given to him in the Nevada desert. He had switched off his homing beacon as by orders of the unknown caller and stayed exactly on the given road.   
Halfway between the last town and the next it happened. Something hit him with the force of a missile, inflicting not only a few seconds of utter confusion, but also an amount of pain. Then something bright exploded and his visual went completely blind. Kitt veered hard to the left and crashed against something he didn't see. His radar was equally damaged. He heard steps, light steps, which meant the attackers were humans. Something heavy crunched the gravel beneath it and Kitt heard a truck engine.   
Garbled words reached him, which made him aware of his equally impaired audio sensor. Visual still didn't work. He was completely helpless. With a last attempt he tried to send a signal, but it didn't go out.   
The voices seemed to be all around him, shouting, sounding hectic, but controlled. And then everything around him flared in white-hot pain, followed by numbing nothingness.

*

"So, what now, Turpin?"   
Ron Turpin, a man in his late forties and always dressed in brown combination of a jacket and trousers with a white shirt, looked at the slightly smoking wreck of the Knight Two Thousand. Everything had gone like clockwork. The car had not expected an attack and driven right onto the specially prepared pads, which had immediately released a stun ray. Trying to escape, he had run right into the path of two of the custom made missiles, which had disabled his radar, visual and audio without destroying the car as such. Turpin and his men had worked quickly and towed the car off the road and onto the truck that had also been especially made for this task. Within minutes everything had been completed and the truck had carried the Knight Two Thousand off to its final destination. He wasn't dead, which had not been necessary, and his boss had explicitly told him not to kill him unless ordered to. They might just need him yet.   
"Now we tell the boss." He took out his long range communicator and activated it. "We have him."   
"Good," a voice replied. "Is he still active?"   
"Yes."   
"Very good."   
With that the conversation was over. "Let's get going," Turpin decided and they moved out.   


The dark-haired man switched off the com link and chuckled. "Eric, open the implant for a bit of entertainment for out guest. I want him to know what his so-called partner is experiencing."   
"Yes, Mr. Geiger."   
The blond, Eric, keyed a command into a small box he always carried with him, no larger than a pocket calculator.

*

Michael had spent he last hours trying to figure a way out of here. He was extremely hindered by the broken ribs and the continuing dizziness. Those two goons had known where to hit. It had been a senseless act, probably just for the fun of it, and Michael knew it was not yet over.   
And then it happened.   
Something hit him with the force of a sledge hammer. He gave a gasp of surprise and everything went white around him as if he was being blinded. Then came the pain. Michael didn't even have time to scream as the world blacked out around him.

* * *

Devon was pacing the confines of his office, forehead wrinkled in deep worry. He had heard what had happened in the Semi and it was gnawing even more at him than Kitt racing over the highway, not even stopping when a police cruiser had hailed him. Bonnie had arrived only five minutes ago, the Semi ready to leave the moment he gave the order to.   
"He simply left?"   
Bonnie sighed. "Yes. I'm not sure what happened, but Kitt believes that Michael is dead."   
Devon's head snapped up. "Dead?"   
"He said he is gone and can't feel him. I think something must have happened to the neuro implant. I'm not sure what, though. Either it was a malfunction or..." She hesitated.   
"Or Michael is truly dead."   
Bonnie swallowed hard, unwilling to entertain that thought for more than a fleeting second. "We have no evidence, Devon! The police searched the mall and found no body, and no one saw anything suspicious."   
"But Michael has disappeared and all we know is that Kitt thinks he is dead." Devon pinched his nose, feeling a headache coming. "What about the com link?"   
"Nothing. We can't pick it up anywhere, and the same goes for Kitt's homing device. He switched it off."   
"I informed the Highway Patrol and they keep an eye open for him, but if he has switched off every means of tracking him, he doesn't want to be found."   
Bonnie sighed deeply again. "Why? Devon, why? What happened?"   
"I wish I knew." Except there was something he could do, someone he could call. Someone who had had some experience with this kind of implant.....   
Devon sat down behind his desk and logged into FLAGNet, sending off a short, cryptic message. He hoped he would get a reply.

* * *

Kitt felt some awareness return, ever so slowly and ever so unsatisfactory. His meager self-repair systems for his damaged programs were drawing heavily on his energy supplies and he knew he wouldn't be able to get back into shape on his own. Too many outside lines had been damaged by what had hit him. He concentrated on getting a communications link up and running, but it was equally greeted by failure. Everything had been fried. Throughout it he became also aware of someone being around him. Someone was apparently working on him. He felt jolts, then heard voices, more jolts, sounds like a truck moving, then nothing for a long time. He tried to repair his vocal unit, but it was a useless task. The connections had been severed quite thoroughly, and he saw that he wouldn't be able to repair them on his own. This was bad.   
And then the jolts and voices returned. Someone touched him, there were hands on the doors, forcing them open against his will. None of his security measures were active anymore and he was helpless.   
A sharp jolt was followed by pain and he gasped, realization hitting him. They were forcing their way toward his CPU.   
No!   
Kitt tried to mobilize his dwindling power reserves, but he had no access to his engine control or anything else. He screamed in protest as the tool, most likely a crowbar, forced the metal around his CPU apart, scraping over the casing, but his scream went unheard.

* * *

There was a soft beeping of an incoming message. The man in the jogging outfit carefully set down the weights he had been lifting, took a towel and wiped sweat off his face. He was a tall man of undefined age, probably in his mid-thirties, skin sun-tanned, his black hair cut short in he back and around the temples, growing longer on top of his head. Clear blue eyes fell on the computer screen where the symbol for a message waiting in his mail box was turning lazily. He keyed in a command and the symbol shrunk, replaced by his mail box. The man frowned as he read where the message had originated from. A few more commands gave him a clear display of what route the mail had taken and he knew it had been sent in the hope it might reach him.   
He opened it.   
He read it again.   
A soft curse hissed over his lips.   
With a flick of his finger the message disappeared and was safely tugged away in a special folder. Closing his eyes he simply sat there for a moment.   
Finally he rose from the chair and walked away from the computer. Only a few steps into the almost bare room sat a black car. It was of no known brand or company; it was custom-made for the driver. A few plants dotted one corner of the room, a couch and TV set close by. The other end of the large room was dominated by a complicated array of technical equipment. The dark-haired man now walked past the car and patted it on the roof.   
"Rise and shine," he called with a sarcastic grin. "We have work."   
Then he continued his way to the shower, closing the door.

* * *

"It's magnificent," Geiger whispered and walked around the car, letting his hand run over the black, gleaming exterior. "Truly a beauty."   
He turned to look at the box sitting on a cart, disgust crossing his features. "Get that ....thing out of here."   
"Want me to dispose of it, boss?" Turpin wanted to know.   
"No, not yet. Let's give it to our good friend Mr. Knight. He might like some ....company." Geiger chuckled and looked back at the car. "As for the car.... move it into my exhibition room to its prearranged place. Finally my collection is complete!"   
"Yes, boss."

* * *

Devon Miles wasn't so sure he had done the right thing, but at the moment there had been no other choice. And in a way he still hoped to get a deeper insight into what and who Nicholas MacKenzie really was. They had last met about half a year ago and at the time, Nicholas had helped them. He had disappeared again, gravely injured, had returned once to meet Michael, had handed over some files, and then the ground had opened up to swallow him again. Now the man was sitting opposite of him, relaxed, a faint smile on his lips, though his eyes showed no emotions at all.   
Reaching Nicholas MacKenzie was not easy and Devon had only sent off a cryptic mail into the general direction of the Internet he knew MacKenzie surfed regularly. There was no email address you could reach him, no home address, no server, no nothing. He lived in a shadowy world and moved like a proverbial shadow. Miles had once had finger prints taken off a glass Nick had been drinking from and the computer had been unable to match the prints with MacKenzie or anybody close to looking like him. The prints had been registered to some man called 'Ray Davies', a federal employee with a family and home in Illinois. Devon had given up then, once again cursing Wilton Knight for his uptightness. He had taken the information about MacKenzie with him when he had died, and maybe it was for the best.   
Devon and Bonnie had just delivered a short description of what had happened and now MacKenzie frowned slightly.   
"Kitt thinks Michael is dead," he now mused out loud. "He can't reach him through the implant, if what you heard was correct, Dr. Barstow."   
Bonnie nodded. "He said the implant was fine but Michael was gone, that he felt empty."   
Nick stared unseeingly into the distance. "Someone might have cut into the transmissions of the implant."   
"Is that possible?"   
A wry, completely humorless smile appeared on his lips and Devon shivered slightly. "It is, Devon, believe me."   
Because you tried it? the older man asked silently, his eyes translating the question for their visitor.   
The answer he got was frightening him even more.   
"I understand his need to be alone," MacKenzie said out loud, his eyes seeking another point of focus other than Devon, "but I don't understand why he suddenly runs off after he followed you back into the trailer. Something is wrong. Did he receive any calls?"   
Bonnie frowned. "Calls? I don't think so...."   
"Then check it. And I need to know his last known position as well as heading." He rose.   
"Where are you going?" Devon asked.   
"To the bathroom," was the slightly sarcastic reply. "And then I need a work station. Maybe there is a way we can find out what happened, if we know what got Kitt to leave." With that MacKenzie disappeared.   
Bonnie shot her older friend a look. Devon shrugged.   
"I asked for his help, we have to live with it."

* * *

Michael woke to the sound of the door opening and he blinked, not even trying to sit up. Whatever drug they had given him, it was only slowly wearing off. He knew someone had been back once to inject him again and he suspected they wanted to keep him detained. Two men entered, one the blond he recognized as one of the kidnappers. The blond was carrying a box.... a box he knew. A cold feeling spread through him and his stomach tightened. Michael thought he would get sick as he watched the blond put the box down on the other bed. He wasn't exactly gentle with it.   
"I told you, you would see your precious partner again," the leader told him coldly, sneering.   
They couldn't have!   
No.....!   
"What have you done?" he demanded hoarsely, trying to sit up, which failed miserably. His body trembled and he felt like throwing up again, though there was nothing inside him that could possibly come up.   
"I never wanted what is inside the car, only the car itself. I thought I'd give the two of you some ...personal moments," he sneered again, "before I scrap this collection of chips and bury it with you. Oh, maybe it would be even better," he then added as if in an afterthought, "to bury it with you while you are still alive.... and dying." His laughter could have chilled a glacier.   
The door closed with a loud bang and Michael scrambled to his feet with all his will power, ignoring the nausea and dizziness, staggering over to the second bed. He fell to his knees, breathing hard, vision swimming. His broken ribs pounded and his head was about to explode.   
"Kitt?" he asked softly.   
He had seen the black box before. It was the casing holding Kitt's self, the microprocessor that was his partner. Now someone had ripped it out of the protective shell of the car body and had ..... violated him. Michael swallowed hard, anguish rising inside him. How could they have done this? It was like taking a brain out of the body! Kitt was vulnerable, almost blind and deprived of sensory input like this. He reached out and touched the casing with trembling fingers.   
"Kitt, can you hear me?"   
The metal was smooth and slightly warm, the box about the size of those modern, small VCRs. He saw external connections, now open and accessible, and the ridges of the panel leading to Kitt's inner self. Beyond this thin wall of metal was what made his friend what he was.   
"Michael?"   
The voice was weak, tremulous and so full of uncertainty, Michael felt tears rising in his eyes. "Yes, Kitt, it's me." His hand rested on the casing now.   
"I... I... felt.... the implant was....dead... you were..." Kitt stumbled over the words and his voice was breaking.   
Michael caught his breath and tears spilled freely now. He remembered what the kidnappers had told him. They had cut the link between man and machine.... Kitt must have been unable to pick him up.... He had thought Michael was dead!   
"God, no, Kitt! I'm alive! They cut the neuro implant link. I'm okay." It was a blatant lie and if Kitt was any good at reading voices now as he was normally, he would hear it.   
Michael laboriously pulled himself up on the bed, then carefully picked up the box. He leaned against the wall, pulling his knees up and placing Kitt in his lap, curling up around him.   
"I'm here, Pal. I'm here..... It's okay now."   
No, nothing was okay. They were both prisoners to a mad man who had used Michael to get his partner, who had used the implant to draw a tormented and lonely Kitt to him. Michael didn't want to know what they had done to Kitt to get to the CPU.   
He fervently wished the neuro implant would work. There was nothing coming through and he knew it had to be just as bad for Kitt. They had taken care not to damage the microprocessor that much, Michael saw. There were two scrapes at one side and, he swallowed hard, one went very close by the live sensor outside the casing. Michael had never known Kitt had sensors outside his CPU casing until Bonnie had told him and it had given him a totally new perspective of his partner. Now he cupped one hand over the sensor and tried to bite back the bile rising in his throat. If they had cut the sensor.... He didn't want to think about it.   
"Michael, I feel so .... alone," Kitt now said, voice wobbling.   
"I'm here," Michael murmured, thumb brushing over the sensor almost unconsciously. Kitt gave a choked sob and he immediately pulled the thumb away. "Sorry, Pal, sorry! Kitt, I did't want to hurt you more....."   
"Not.... hurt," Kitt managed. "It's just... no one ever touched me there." He hesitated. "Bonnie normally switches the sensor off when she has to work in the vicinity of my CPU."   
Michael thought he heard Kitt swallow, though this was purely his imagination. This was knew to his partner, the touch, and he was confused. Suddenly Michael felt a stab of very real pain from his mistreated body and he hissed involuntarily. A coughing fit hit him and he tasted blood in his mouth.   
"Michael, you are injured."   
He bit back another moan. "It's not too bad, Kitt."   
"Why do you lie?"   
He closed his eyes and his head fell back against the cold wall.   
"It doesn't make me feel better," Kitt continued. "I wish...." He stopped.   
Michael looked at the box in his lap. "What, Pal?"   
"I wish the link would work," Kitt choked out quickly and fell into embarrassed silence.   
Michael smiled softly and unconsciously rubbed the sensor again. "Me too," he mumbled.   
"I never knew I am so .... dependent on it. It's frightening," Kitt added weakly.   
"I like it too, Pal. I have grown very much used to having you with me... in a way at least."   
The emptiness in the back of his mind was frightening and somewhat cold. He had lived all his life with it, never noticing, and then, only six months ago, the implant had come to life and had changed his forever.   
"Michael?"   
"Yes?"   
"It's.... nice," Kitt said softly.   
Michael felt heat rise to his face, but he kept up the soothing strokes. It gave him security as well, holding Kitt, trying not to think of what would happen, what they were doing out there. After a while he lay down and curled up around the casing, holding Kitt close.   


Kitt was deprived of most of his functions, like vital scanners, video links and, most important, the input from the implant, but he knew Michael was not in a very good shape. He had enough experience with human injuries to come to the conclusion as to what might be wrong and he didn't like it at all. On top of it was the missing connection and it slowly drove him mad. All he had was Michael's presence all around him as Michael held him pressed against his warm body, his hand on the sensor. It was calming, but it also made him wish for more, something more intimate.... the link.   
Kitt whimpered softly and concentrated on the input he had, the gentle strokes, the slight pressure on the sensor.   
Michael was alive.   
He was not really well, but he was alive.   
It was all that counted right now and it helped keep the painful and dark memories away. Michael was with him and he was with Michael; the immediate future was far from pleasant, but for now, Kitt felt content.   
The strokes stilled slowly and Michael's breathing evened out. He had fallen asleep. Kitt listened to the regular, slightly labored breathing of his partner, losing himself in it for now.

* * *

The screen glowed a soft blue, reflecting off the sharp-angled face of the man sitting in front of it. Cold blue eyes read over the information.   
"He received a call via the com link." Nicholas sat back and chewed on his lower lip. "And since it's a private channel it usually isn't monitored, except when he is in the Semi and the diagnostic sensors are interfacing with the Semi's stations." He raised one dark eyebrow at the brunette at his side.   
Bonnie nodded, surprised as always when it came to MacKenzie's knowledge about their organization and technology. He had shown an incredible ease with computers while going through the diagnostic logs, had never hesitated in using a command, and seemed to be on her level of expertise. She wondered if this came from his exposure to a computer for so long or if it was self-taught the conventional way. Maybe both. Maybe the implant leaked knowledge back. She would have to keep that in mind the next time she was with Michael while he and Kitt were experimenting.   
The thought of Michael stabbed her and she bit her lower lip, chasing dark thoughts of his possible death away, concentrating on her task.   
"All we have to do is pull the log out of the files and see what was transmitted," she said and went to work on her station.   
Nicholas watched her and then left the program he had used to determine what had happened. After five minutes Bonnie inhaled sharply and he walked over to her. His eyes narrowed as he read the log.

**log-in com-link**   
**authorized access**   
**time 02:08**   
**transmission starts**   
'i know you can hear me, knight two thousand. I want you to listen. i have your driver and he is alive, but only for now. come to the following coordinates. alone. if anyone else is with you or if your homing device is on, michael knight is dead.'   
**end transmission**   
**log-off com-link**

A string of coordinates followed. Nicholas reached past Bonnie and with a few keystrokes he copied the coordinates, sending them out to someone. Bonnie knew who this someone was and she shivered. She had seen the Stealth parked outside and she had thought it looked like a tiny black hole on a sunny day. True, Kitt had the same midnight black color, but it didn't give him the appearance of extreme danger, of a 'handle with care' impression. Kitt appeared smooth, sleek, powerful, beautiful. The Stealth was only deadly, no beauty, no smoothness. But maybe that was only her imagination.   
MacKenzie turned without a word and was gone.   
Bonnie did the next best thing that came to mind: call Devon.

* * *

Pain.   
Madness.   
Why?   
What do you want?   
Who are you!?   
Kitt woke with a choked scream and he felt a soft pressure on his hyper-sensitive sensor that freaked him almost as much as the nightmare had.   
"Kitt? Kitt, it's me, Michael," a voice penetrated the haze of terror and he sobbed again, feeling relief and hope. He tried to find the neuro link, but failed, and the terror returned.   
"Michael?" he cried, voice weak.   
Nightmares of being alone crashed in on him, feeding the terror which in turn fed the nightmares. It was a vicious circle and he gave off high keening noises. The nightmares were a darkness that held him in a cold stranglehold through which no warmth could permeate.   
"It's okay, Pal. It's okay."   
The voice.   
Michael's voice.   
His partner.   
He reached out for it, tried to feel him, but there was only nothingness. Frightened he flailed about, trying to find a sliver of the link, but it was futile.   
Gone.   
The pressure became a soothing touch and Kitt shivered uncontrollably. He felt warmth all round him, Michael's body curled up around his CPU housing, giving him the protection he so craved for.   
Kitt didn't know why he was so frightened, though it might be the absence of the link. He felt vulnerable and alone, but he had been like this before. Bonnie had taken him out of his car body countless times and every time it had been okay. Not perfect and safe, but okay. This time....   
Brutal hands ripping him out of the car, tools coming close to his sensor. Abject terror rising inside him.   
"Kitt, I'm here. Calm down...." Michael coughed and suppressed a moan. His partner's pain shot through him on a different level and gave Kitt something to concentrate on. He banished his own memories and tried to find his inner balance.   
"It was ... a bad dream," he finally said.   
"I know."   
"Are we still in the cell?" Kitt asked, keeping a quiver suppressed.   
"Yes, Pal, we are. I'm sorry."   
"This isn't your fault." Kitt tried to lean into the strokes, though that was not really possible. But still, he felt closer to his partner. "What happened?" he finally wanted to know.   
"They overwhelmed me," Michael mumbled, sounding ashamed. Then, hesitantly, he started to explain to Kitt what had happened, how he had been kidnapped.   
Kitt craved for a way to comfort his friend. He heard the guilt, the self-recrimination, in his voice, and he hurt all over with it. It hadn't been Michael's fault. He was no master of self-defense and as a human he had limits, but in his self-induced guilt he didn't see it like that. Michael blamed himself for the situation they were now in.   


Michael coughed again, the ribs blazing like mad, and stopped in his tale. In a way it had all been his fault. Because of him, Kitt was here. They had used the driver to get to the car. Anger wormed its way through the pain and the sudden release of adrenaline banished most of the gnawing agony for a while. His eyes fell on the cursed wrist cuff, the one keeping the neuro link suppressed. He wished he could simply rip it off, get rid of it, but it would only make things worse. If this madman had told him the truth, he would kill himself in the attempt and there was no reason not to believe him.   
He kept on brushing his thumb over Kitt's sensor, something that gave both him and his partner the comfort they needed. He knew they had to find a way out of here, but the door was tightly locked and he didn't have any tools with him. Kitt was in here with him, not anywhere outside, and therefore no big help either. Unless.....   
"Kitt?" he asked.   
"Yes, Michael."   
"Can you still feel your body?"   
There was a puzzled silence. "Michael?" Kitt then inquired, sounding confused.   
"I mean, can you somehow link up to the car body and maybe get it here?"   
Another silence. "I never tried."   
"Then try!" Michael whispered. "Carefully and slowly."   
"But ... but they destroyed so much when they caught me," Kitt protested weakly.   
"Try it, Pal, please," he begged and then another coughing fit hit.   


Kitt felt the vibrations of the convulsing body around him and emotional pain surged through him. It was nothing like he would have felt if the implant were not blocked, but it was painful enough for him. He couldn't reach out and comfort his friend, only sit helplessly in his weak grasp. He knew what Michael wanted him to attempt and he was frightened and apprehensive in one. What if it didn't work? What if they saw him? What if he failed?   
"Kitt?" Michael asked weakly.   
"I will try," he heard himself say and knew he would do his best.

* * *

The black Stealth approached the coordinates from the message with care. Its tires crunched the sand beneath and finally came to a rest. Nicholas sat behind the wheel and tensely watched the area. There was nothing but empty desert land around them and it made him more nervous than a dense forest of trees. Here and there a Joshua tree made up for a bit of plant life, dried bushes waving lazily in the wind. The horizon was a wavering line of white heat, the highway shimmering with mirages.   
"Anything?" he asked into the silence.   
"I detect no other presence than ours," was the immediate reply. "But there are traces of the Knight Two Thousand's recent presence."   
Nicholas looked at the screen as it lit up and displayed several read-outs. Emissions of the Knight Two Thousand, erratic tire tracks and several indicators that a heavy duty vehicle had been present as well. He got out of the protective shell of his car, the heat rolling over him, and walked over to the area where Kitt must have crashed into the ditch. The sand was still evidence to it all.   
This part of the highway was rarely used for traffic, except as a detour when heavy load traffic was not allowed to follow the I15. Since the construction of the 15 this highway was mostly dead anyway. No one would have seen the 'accident' or kidnapping.   
"How well can you trace the truck that was here?" Nick finally asked as he crouched down and let his fingers brush over the hot desert sand, disturbing the traces.   
"Not unlimited. I believe they went north-northwest," the Stealth answered.   
"Then let's follow them as far as we can," Nick decided, brushed the sand off his fingers and walked back to the car.   
"Do you think Michael Knight is dead?" Karr asked all of a sudden.   
Nicholas frowned. "I don't know. Either they found a way to block an implant or they really killed him. Either way, whoever they are, I want them."   
"Why do we help FLAG again?"   
"They asked."   
"They won't pay."   
"Karr, if someone can block an implant, I want to know how and who it is," Nicholas said coldly.   
"I see."

* * *

It was endlessly difficult. Kitt was trying hard, but he had yet to find a direct link to his car body and every link he thought would help him ended in yet another destroyed connection or circuit. It was frustrating and despairing. Michael had fallen asleep again some time ago and Kitt felt his soft breathing. It was an immense comfort. Finally he had somewhat of a standing connection, a fragile one indeed, but it was a link. He started to check his body. He didn't know where in the building they were held in it was, but it seemed to be a rather big room. Most of his engine systems checked out fine, though all others were completely down. All weapons, 86% of his scanners, everything that made this car body so different.   
"Michael?"   
Michael was almost immediately awake, though not completely conscious. His condition was deteriorating. "Kitt?" he mumbled.   
"Yes, Michael, it's me. I think I have found a way to my body."   
Michael blinked violently and tried to sit up, moaning softly as his body protested. He sank back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Kitt's CPU casing, drawing comfort from his friend's presence. He held him like he would a small child.   
"Where are you?" he whispered.   
"I don't know. My external scanners are all down and I'm effectively blind, but I think my radar is partially working. I could navigate by that."   
Michael coughed again, again tasting blood. He was now more sure than ever that he had internal injuries. "Try it," he said roughly.   
"Michael?"   
"Yes, Kitt?"   
"How badly are you injured?"   
It was a simple, almost innocent question, but Michael was afraid to answer it. He had two or three broken ribs, his head was pounding with each heart beat, and whatever drug they had given him, it still showed effect. He was thirsty, though not hungry – every thought of food made his stomach revolt -- , and exhausted. One rib might have bruised or even punctured his lung and maybe that was where the internal bleeding came from.   
"I'll survive," he rasped, "if we get out of here."   
Kitt cringed at the sound of his voice, wanting nothing more than to feel the link to his partner alive, checking on him, even if he wouldn't be able to do anything. He had to find a way to get his body out of wherever he was and to this place. Concentrating on the connection he activated his radar and started to get an idea of where he was and where Michael was located.

* * *

"Roger Geiger," Nicholas hissed and looked at the estate visible not far away from him, sitting in the middle of the desert like a tiny oasis. "Why am I not surprised?"   
He had heard of Geiger, of course. He had once stolen software secrets from one of the companies Geiger held major stock in, was the most powerful man at. It had cost Geiger millions. Nicholas had never encountered Geiger personally, but he knew the man was an eccentric, collecting the impossible. The more outrageous an object, the more difficult it was to get, the more he wanted it. This estate was only one of his many residences; there were also a Caribbean Islands facility, a New York downtown apartment building, a New Jersey estate, a vineyard in France and a castle in Austria and Scotland. But his desert estate was his headquarters, the place where he kept his most sacred and secret collection.   
Nicholas studied the building. "Security?" he asked.   
"None detectable, except for the usual guards and dogs," Karr answered.   
"Can you scan any trace of Kitt?"   
"Negative, but there is a large underground complex I cannot get into." The screen showed a rough rectangle the size of an airplane hangar that would dwarf even the largest passenger plane.   
"Bingo," Nick muttered.   
Now all he had to do was get in there.

* * *

The man with the syringe came while Michael was sleeping. He simply plunged the needle into the upper arm, Michael rousing, blinking dazedly. Then, after he had squeezed the content into the other man's system, the man disappeared again. Michael swallowed heavily, dizziness racing through his body.   
"Michael? Michael!"   
The insistent voice finally got through the daze. "Yes?" he asked, tongue heavy.   
"What have they done?" Kitt asked, worried.   
Michael shifted so the CPU was once again cradled against his chest, his fingers seeking the sensor, shakily brushing over it. "Drugs," he managed, gulping down the rising nausea the drug evoked. "Gave me another shot."   
Kitt shivered inside the relative safety of the casing. Michael was weakening from his injuries and they kept him sedated with drugs. He guessed the only reason why they hadn't killed both of them yet was that they wanted to see them suffer. Kitt felt a whimper escape him and Michael's hold tightened on him. He had to be resting against his chest and he heard the raspy breathing.   
"'Tis okay," Michael murmured. "How's... your link?"   
"I have scanned the room I am in. It took a bit longer since radar is not as detailed as my usual procedures, but I determined that I must be in an underground chamber, Michael," Kitt told him, glad to have something other to concentrate on for now. "I am surrounded by several machines and some things I cannot identify."   
"What other ... machines?" Michael was drifting off again.   
"I think airplanes, Michael."   
"Planes?" A cough followed the question.   
"Military fighters from the looks of it."   
"Can you move?"   
"Yes, I think so. My motor controls are all there and I think somebody repaired my body, though not professionally. Michael?" Kitt asked when he heard no reply. "Michael!"   
The drug had taken effect. He was alone now and it took all his control not to lose himself in that feeling. He concentrated back on his task: finding a way out of the room through remote control.

* * *

Getting in had proven to be much easier than anticipated, though it would result in a headache for the garden caretaker who now lay bound and gagged in the back of the van full of gardening tools and young plants, drugged as well so he wouldn't wake up and cry for help. Nicholas flashed the ID and security card of the man, one Thaddeus Elkridge, and was let onto the premises. It was almost too easy, but who would suspect a highly skilled ex-agent breaking into this desert estate? He left the van among the other employee cars, got rid of the gardener's overall, and checked his link to Karr. A tiny ear plug sat in his left ear and a microphone no bigger than a thumb nail and completely flat, was sticking to his throat to pick up vibrations as he talked. He and Karr had developed this technique for undercover cases because a headset was way too visible. Same went for a com link when you couldn't move your arm or hand in case you were discovered.   
"I read you loud and clear," Karr's chilly voice said in his ear.   
"Good. I'm going in."   
Nicholas entered the estate. The inside of the house was even more impressive than the outside. The entrance hall stretched up to the upper floors, with a gallery running around the second floor. A tapestry hung on the wall immediately opposite the doorway, right over the large staircase, which split into two after a few steps.   
"That's what I call an entrance hall," was Nick's only comment.   
He tried to determine his position relative to where the entrance to the large unknown structure had to be. After almost an hour of searching he came upon a storage room or something along that line. The silverware on the shelf was a definite hint. But there was also a panel next to the shelf and when he opened it, Nicholas was greeted by a key code access.   
"My, my, my," he muttered and crouched down in front of it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, flat device which he pressed over the access panel and activated it. Almost immediately a holographic display appeared and the small machine whirred and clicked. The green display showed him the lock in all detail and how the little 'key' he had was cracking layer after layer.   
Finally it was done. Nicholas smiled briefly, then rose in one fluid motion as the shelf clicked open. He was in.

* * *

Kitt had managed to start his engine and shift in gear, though it had taken him endlessly. Nothing was easy like this. He had no real eyes or ears, and he had to drive himself while not being inside. It was like steering a model car by remote. He eased forward and encountered the pedestal's one step deep fall. He laboriously eased his body down and then stood on the ground, waiting if any alarm went off. Nothing happened.   
He moved on, slowly, a stop-and-go drive, having to reverse when he came upon another too tight spot or one of the larger planes. It took him an hour to reach the far side of the hangar-like room.

* * *

Nicholas moved quickly, surely, and without hesitation. He passed several doors labeled in letters and numbers, ignoring them, until he arrived at what looked like a holding cell. Peering inside he knew he was right.   
Michael Knight lay on a bunk in the corner, curled up, obviously in pain, but not unconscious. When he heard the door open he looked up. His eyes widened and he gave a moan of denial. Nicholas walked over to him and carefully brushed hair out of his face, wincing. He looked terrible, his skin pale and drawn, a beard stubble shadowing his chin and cheeks. His eyes held a glazed expression and he didn't seem to recognize MacKenzie. Definitely drugged. In his arms lay a black box, one Nick knew as well. Karr's looked slightly different, but a CPU casing was a CPU casing.   
"Michael?"   
Michael mumbled something unintelligible and curled tightly around Kitt as if trying to protect him.   
"Kitt, can you hear me?" Nicholas then tried the second occupant of the bed.   
"Nicholas?" Kitt's weak voice answered.   
"Yes, it's me. We don't have much time. Do you know where your body is?"   
"Yes."   
"Good. I'm going to get both of you there." He reached for the black casing and was met by Michael's stubborn resistance to surrender his partner.   
"Michael, don't make me hurt you," MacKenzie muttered and tried to pry the surprisingly strong fingers off the casing. That was when he discovered the wrist cuff. "Oh, damn!"   
This was what blocked them then..... He quickly ran his eyes over the device and shook his head. There was no time to try and diffuse it now. He had to do that when they were safely away.   
"Michael, I want to help you," he whispered intensely. "I won't hurt either you or Kitt."   
Not if you stop fighting me! he added to himself.   
"Nick?" Michael moaned.   
Nicholas grinned. "Yeah. Funny we meet always like this. Now hand Kitt to me, okay? I know how to handle a CPU, trust me."   
Blurry grey-blue eyes met Nicholas' ice blue ones and finally Michael surrendered his hold on his partner. He slowly and carefully let go of the black box and Nicholas took it with equal care, minding the live sensor. He got out a collapsible knapsack.   
"Kitt, I need to put you in a bag and you will be on my back from now on. Are you okay with that?"   
"Yes," Kitt answered, sounding strained.   
"It won't be for long, just as long as it takes to get you to your body."   


Kitt felt the soft material of the knapsack slide over his sensor and he shivered, trying to tune the input rate down. Still, it was a tingling sensation reaching his core. Then he was lifted and slung over Nicholas' shoulders. The jolts following were almost too much like his kidnapping, but he kept quiet, only whimpering inaudibly inside the CPU. He longed for Michael's gentle, reassuring touch, but there was none here.

*

The TransAm body came to a complete stand-still as Kitt's wavering control failed while he was transferred into the knapsack. It seemed dead to the world, and maybe it was dead. An empty shell, lifeless without its central core, the AI that made up the whole.

* * *

Nicholas leaned Michael against a metal cabinet standing in the long corridor, checking his link to Karr. They were not going back the way they had come, mainly because that meant leaving through the main entrance and he would be discovered for sure. They also had to find Kitt's body and this corridor was leading toward the hidden hangar.   
"Distance?" he inquired.   
"You are coming upon a door," Karr's voice could clearly be heard in his head. "Behind the door starts the hidden area.   
"Thanks. Any activity?"   
"None."   
Nicholas walked on, pulling Michael with him, who was too dazed to be left walking on his own. Damn those drugs! He had no idea what they had pumped into Michael, otherwise he might have been able to give him a counter-acting drug from the small medi-kit he always carried.   
The door Karr had been talking about loomed up in front of them. Nicholas thought he heard footsteps behind them and he tightened his hold on Michael. Surprisingly the door wasn't locked and he pulled it open -- and found himself staring into the business end of a gun.   
The shock and surprise registering through him must have translated through the implant because Karr whispered, "He was hidden by the scanner resistant walls."   
Nicholas didn't blame his partner. He couldn't see through lead plated walls and there were situations Nick was alone, like right now.   
"Where are we going?" the man asked, grinning.   
"None of your business!" he stated coldly, assessing his chances. With Michael hanging half-conscious at his side, not very big.   
"Tsk-tsk-tsk....."   
Michael suddenly gave a loud groan and stumbled forward. The man was caught by surprise by this movement and his weapon briefly swerved away from Nicholas.   
MacKenzie was a professional and armed as well as unarmed an opponent to be taken quite seriously. He was a walking weapon. He now hit her opponent's wrist with one hand, disarming him quite effectively, following this with a fist squarely in the jaw. As the man made a grab for him he rammed one heavily booted foot into a very vulnerable section. The goon went down immediately, eyes wide, threatening to pop out, and a wheeze passed his lips. Then he blacked out.   
Nicholas straightened, not even breathing hard -- and discovered that the man had brought his friends along.   


Michael, who had discovered the same just a minute earlier, focused all his strength into one move. He felt terribly weak and was disoriented, but he knew what was at stake. His eyes fixed on the man beside him -- the enemy, the one who had done all of this to him -- and he exploded into adrenaline-driven movement, his fist driving into the mid-section of the man, doubling him over. The man gave a gasp, but he wasn't downed easily. He returned the favor. A knife slashed toward him and Michael stumbled out of the way, avoiding the sharp blade by sheer luck. He tripped on something and lost his balance. Michael fell backwards, slamming hard onto an unyielding surface.   


Kitt was lost in the commotion, feeling his sensor scrape against the material of the bag holding him. Desperately he switched it off and fumbled for his transmission link to the car body. He held on to that link and ignited he engine, slamming in 'D' and accelerating roughly toward where the fight was taking place.   


Nicholas got rid of his opponent and then turned to the last man, who was grinning broadly as he stood over the fallen Michael Knight. His grin faded abruptly and he keeled over, crashing to the floor beside Michael. Nicholas cracked his fingers.   
"Stupid," was all he muttered.   
Headlights blinded him all of a sudden and he was just fast enough to jump out of the way of the oncoming car before it crashed into the statue behind him, destroying it forever. Nicholas rolled around, almost automatically shielding Kitt, pulling the knapsack against his chest as he rolled. Karr screamed in his mind and he gasped, wincing profoundly a the intrusion.   
I'm okay!>   
The presence immediately pulled back, but not completely. It was still there, hovering, unsure.   
"Kitt?" Nick now asked, fluidly jumping to his feet.   
The engine of the car died down with a stutter and the headlights collapsed back into the hood again.   
"Michael?" the AI in his arms begged.   
"He's here with me, just dazed," Nicholas calmed Kitt, voice incredibly soft and gentle. And in bad need of a hospital, he added silently.   
"Can you....put me back," Kitt asked hesitantly.   
"I have to even," MacKenzie replied and walked over to the car. "Can you give me some help as to how? And it has to be quick. I can't connect you completely in such a short time, I know, but we need to get out of here."   
"I can help you."   
Ten minutes later, an eternity for someone like Nicholas, Kitt was crudely connected to his old body. Nick knew he had hurt the AI several times while getting him back into the car, but there was no time for gentleness. He would have to apologize later. Throughout the installation he had kept up a murmur of reassurance, of gentle words, that would have surprised others. He didn't come across as someone who understood what emotional turmoil Kitt was going through, but Nicholas had a very good idea. He and Karr had gone through some more disastrous cases as well and he had found that a soft voice could calm the AI in question, even if the words made no sense.   
"Karr? Where's he exit ramp?" Nicholas asked through the microphone when he was done.   
There was no reply but an urgent pressure in his mind. He cursed. Of course! He was in the isolated room! He was about to step through the door to get reception back when he heard the alarm go off.   
Nicholas cursed again and pulled up Michael. "Kitt, beat it! Now!"   
There is a large ramp leading down to the isolated area left of you> a cold voice suddenly echoed in his head.   
Nicholas cringed and felt nausea rise. He wasn't used to this and he probably never would be. Karr rarely used this way of communication, something they had discovered was possible after a year of finally accepting what had happened to both of them. The first time it had happened Nicholas had been so shocked and so sick, he had spent half an hour in the bathroom introducing the toilet to his lunch. It was less the fact that Karr's mind voice was just as cold, though rarely as chilled, as his 'normal' voice; it was more the intrusion into his mind. Now bile rose in his throat and his knees grew weak. Terror swept through him and froze the blood in his veins.   
He swallowed heavily and looked to his left, discovering the faint outline of a huge hangar door. This was how Geiger managed to get his planes down here. This was their way out.   
"Can you take out that door?" he asked the nervously humming car at his side.   
Kitt's scanner flickered weakly and he tried to pinpoint the location. "Yes," he finally said. "Shouldn't you and Michael get in?"   
"No. Take out that door and then we get in. Nothing against you, Kitt, but I don't want to put Michael through any more jolting than really necessary."   
"I understand," Kitt answered after a second's hesitation. Then he accelerated and hit the hangar doors frontally. The steel door went flying into a thousand separate chunks and a part of the disintegrating wall hit another piece of art, whacking it hard and it shattered.

*

The alarm echoed through the estate and Roger Geiger strode down the hall of his home, furious with anger. "An intruder? How is that possible?" he demanded.   
"It seems he has come to rescue Michael Knight. We trapped him in the Art Room," Eric quickly explained. "He won't get out."   
Geiger stopped and slammed his assistant against the nearest wall. "*How* did he get in here?" he hissed.   
"We don't know," Eric croaked through the choke-hold.   
"I want him! Alive!"   
"Yes, Mr. Geiger."   
Geiger released him, eyes still bright with fury.   
Suddenly there was a loud crash from the vicinity of the Art Room. Geiger paled and made a running start down the corridor leading to his most precious collection.

* * *

Nicholas muttered another curse as Michael slumped against him, a dead weight in his arms as he pulled him through the jagged hole Kitt had torn into the door. He winced as Michael moaned softly, his battered body protesting every move. The last move he had made against Geiger's henchmen had demanded everything and his hold on consciousness was a fragile one.   
"Just a bit longer," Nicholas coaxed.   
"Five men are converging on your position," Karr's voice suddenly alarmed him and he briefly closed his eyes. It couldn't get any worse, now could it?   
"Now would be a good moment to come to the rescue," he growled into the microphone.   
"If you think so."   
He rolled his eyes and then became aware of three of the five men advancing on him. He carefully let Michael slide to the ground where he lay, half conscious.   
"Okay, boys, if you want to play," Nicholas muttered, "let's party!"   


Michael was dazed, his eyes glazed, and everything he saw was like through a long tunnel. Figures were dancing at the end of the tunnel and he heard a regular pounding, like a drum. After a while he discovered it was his heart. He heard his heart beat, he heard his raspy breathing, and he heard the sound of the dance.   
A deadly dance.   
A fight.   
Nicholas was up against three guys and even though he was good, he might not make it alone.   
Adrenaline surged through him and for the last time, his body collecting all the strength it still had. Michael stumbled heavily to his feet.   


Nicholas bit back a cry as one of the goons managed to hit him with the metal bar he had used as a weapon, rolling aside to get out of the way of his attacker. His left hand reached for a weapon, his right arm feeling numb from the blow and detached from his body. His hand closed around the hand gun he was carrying. The metal bar ended the life of a decorative lamp near-bye. Glass shreds rained over the ex-agent as he crawled away, trying to get some distance between himself and his attacker. He had taken out the two others before, one for sure, the other was only unconscious.   
When he looked up from his supine position he saw the attacker, the bar raised to strike again, a cold grin on his face. Nicholas raised his weapon and tried to shoot. The bar swung down, catching his left hand. He hissed, his weapon flying off into the desert sand. His mind went on overload, trying to separate pain and training, as well as the insistent presence of his partner, who was racing toward them at top speed. MacKenzie fixed on the training, ignoring the pain, and he struck at the attacker with his feet, catching him square in the chest. He was rewarded with a grunt as the man flew backward.   
Karr cleared the fence by driving straight through it, grit flying up from his rear wheels as he turned sharply, trying not to lose traction. Out of the corner of his eyes Nicholas saw him race toward one of the two men now approaching at a dead run to where the fight was taking place.   
Don't kill!> he screamed as he staggered to his feet, his left hand ablaze with pain, his right shoulder and arm numb.   
Annoyance swamped over him, but Karr swerved to one side, his passenger door flying open and hitting one of the men in the back. The second one stopped and fired several rounds at the black Stealth, but they all glanced off harmlessly from the molecular bonded body shell. Karr turned around and his angrily humming engine was like the challenging growl of a large predator. The man still fired on him as he gained speed and shot toward his attacker.   
No!> Nicholas breathed, unaware he was using the neuro implant.   
But Karr had no intention of killing the human. He stopped, his back sliding around, dusting billowing up and enveloping the man. Then there was a scream as the goon came in contact with the black skin. Nicholas heard a sizzle and knew what had happened. Electric charge.   
"Thank you," he whispered, feeling exhausted.   
As an answer he only received a low, heated rumble in his mind.   


Michael had watched most of the fight like it was happening in another world; and for him it was. His body was under the influence of the sedative drug, adrenaline, and the pain burning in his rib. Like in slow motion he saw the man Nicholas had downed get up again, fury written clearly over his face.   
He picked up his gun, swaying, aiming for MacKenzie.   
Michael stumbled forward, a weak cry of warning coming over his lips.   
Nicholas turned.   


The shot echoed through the desert and Michael crumbled to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Nicholas whirled around and the side arm he had taken from one downed guards fired once, taking out the shooter with a clean shot through the heart. Geiger, who had just come out of the destroyed underground Art Room, froze.   
"No!" The scream was barely human anymore and displayed anger, pain and desperation. "Michael!"   
Kitt surged forward and, before Nicholas had any time to react, pinned the hapless millionaire between the wall and his front end. The man gave a cry of pain when his shins connected with the bumper.   
"You killed my partner," Kitt said tonelessly.   
There was no emotion in his usually so warm voice other than icy cold rage, a stark opposite to the emotional scream from a second ago. Anyone who had ever heard Karr in his life before would realize that right now, both AIs were suddenly sounding very much alike.   
"No!" Geiger wailed. "He is not dead!"   
"I felt him die," Kitt stated, his voice now even missing the rage. "I felt him die when you kidnapped him and now he is dead for real."   
Don't leave me!   
Icy coldness.   
Pain.   
Fear.   
Separation.   
Michael!?   
His scanner was flowing back and forth, and he seemed to radiate darkness. He inched forward.   
Geiger screamed.   
"Kitt!"   
The voice boomed through the otherwise silent desert but Kitt ignored it. His full attention was fixed on the one who had killed his partner; maybe not directly, but indirectly he was responsible for it all. The emptiness inside him ached like a physical wound and in a way it was a wound. Michael was no more. The most important part of his life, his partner, his friend, the one linked to him through the neuro implant, was gone and there was no bringing him back now. But he could revenge his partner's death, even though it would be the last thing Kitt would do. When he was done here, when Michael's killer was dead, Kitt would die as well. He didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore.   
His malfunctioning video links took in the pitiful form of the quivering human. He didn't care if anyone saw him kill this man or not.   
"You will follow him," he promised in a low, harsh whisper.   
"He's not dead! I didn't kill him!" Geiger blurted, voice rising. Kitt's engine howled and he shrieked. "He's alive! We only jammed the implant! And it wasn't a bullet. It was a tranquilizer!" He cried out again.   
Nicholas stopped behind the modified TransAm, his mind racing as to what to do. He wouldn't be able to stop Kitt if the AI attacked. No one would, he realized all of a sudden, not even Bonnie or Devon, or anyone Kitt knew, except Michael Knight. But Michael was out from the drug and wouldn't regain consciousness for a few hours. Nick had checked on his fallen friend the moment Kitt had surged forward and he knew Geiger was telling the truth. Knight was badly hurt, he needed a doctor, but he was alive.   
"He's telling the truth, Kitt," he now said, trying to get his attention. "Michael is alive, in a bad shape but alive. His implant has taken severe stress damage and he is unconscious, but he is not dead! And you know they are still blocking the link."   
"Lies," Kitt whispered.   
"The truth," Karr entered the conversation, surprising his driver. "It is no lie. Knight is alive."   
Kitt hesitated and the front scanner of his car body flickered with uncertainty. Most of his functions were down, among them the vital signs scanner. He still detected body heat rising from the lifeless seeming body of his partner but he couldn't scan for life signs at all. And Karr did not lie. He shut up completely if he didn't want to answer or tell the truth, but he had never really lied..... but he couldn't feel his partner anymore! He had felt Michael's death before, his pain, his desperation. And then he had seen him get shot. Something inside Kitt had snapped for real all of a sudden and finally the cold emptiness had hit him like a living being, enveloping him, drowning all thoughts.   
"They severed the link between the two of you," Nicholas went on, inching closer. "But Michael is not dead."   
Geiger, Michael's killer, whimpered. "He is right! He is not dead! We destroyed the link so you would come to us, but we didn't kill him!"   
Kitt's scanner flared with an almost untamed fury, something never seen with him before. "Why did you want me?" he hissed.   
"I collect thing.... But ... but...." He cried out as Kitt pushed him against the wall again. An inch more and Geiger's shins would break.   
"You wanted me and hurt my partner!" Kitt told the whimpering man, voice too calm for Nicholas' liking. "You hurt the one who means more to me than my own life! You gave me the emptiness that rages inside me! Why should I let you live?" he demanded.   
The millionaire's face turned even whiter, if that was at all possible.   
"Because you are not a killer," Nicholas said and came even closer.   
Kitt's frame quivered with unreleased emotions. "Watch me," he ground out.   
"You are not a killer," Karr entered the conversation again. "You cannot take human life, Kitt. You are not me."   
Kitt hissed. He was torn inside, his rational programming telling him that Karr was right, his emotional side screaming to kill this man who had taken Michael from him. An eternity seemed to pass, then he released the man who sagged to the ground, sobbing.   
Suddenly Kitt gave a keening noise, all his pain and suffering expressed in this one cry. His body was wracked by tremors and he was moaning softly. Nicholas stepped forward and touched Kitt in the same way he usually touched Karr. He wished Bonnie were here because she was more familiar with Kitt than he was, but she wasn't. He was the only one present and he knew Kitt needed reassurance.   
"He's alive," he heard himself whisper. "Michael is alive."   
Kitt whimpered. "Can't feel him," he moaned..   
"His implant is still blocked and cannot link to you," Nicholas told him. "He is okay. He is hurt, but alive! The moment the artificial shield is gone, you can feel him again. It won't be pleasant because of his injuries, but will be.... whole again."   
"Alive," Kitt muttered, voice weak.   
"Yes, alive. And he needs you," Nick added, not really knowing why he said it.   
Kitt was incredibly vulnerable right now and Nicholas saw the bond between the man and the machine, a bond that balanced the machine and completed it. They were still trying to find the right balance and it would take a lot more time than those few months, but they were on their best way.   
The scanner flickered once, then started to run smoothly back and forth. The engine hummed into life.   
"The police and FLAG are on their way," Karr now reported.   
"Thanks," Nick muttered, feeling weary and exhausted. "Kitt?"   
"I will be fine," Kitt muttered, inching slowly toward the prone form of his driver. "Fine...."   
Nicholas nodded and walked to his own car, briefly resting his head on his crossed arms as he leaned against the warm metal skin. He felt immensely tired and worn, mostly because there was a low throbbing in the back of his skull, indicating Karr's almost possessive presence. He didn't want to tell him to tune it down because Karr needed it and in a way, Nick needed it as well. There was also the low pulse from his injured shoulder, though he suspected nothing was broken, just badly bruised.   
"Nicholas?"   
"Yes?" he asked, voice muffled.   
"I apologize for my prior intrusion."   
Nicholas shook his head, smiling slightly. "'Tis okay, partner. But we have to work on it, mostly my bodily reaction."   
At least he had not broken down like the first time.   
"Yes. The police are here, as well as an ambulance."   
Nick looked up, blinking into the sun. Yes, two police cruisers had just arrived and paramedics were already running toward the injured. In the distance he saw the Semi approach. It would take a while to explain this and he prepared himself for a very long day.

* * *

Devon Miles hated hospitals. He had seen too many of them lately and every time it had been a close call for a good friend. And each time it had been Michael. Bonnie had been with him the whole time while the ambulance had taken him to the hospital and she was now curled up in a chair, biting back tears of fear and frustration that no one would tell them anything. She had told him that Michael had kept on asking for Kitt the whole time, begging them to let him talk to his partner, but it had been impossible. Kitt had been towed into the Semi and Justin was currently busy doing some cosmetics and keeping the AI occupied with technical things. Bonnie trusted Justin in that regard. He and Kitt shared a tight friendship.   
The doctor had been in once to let them know that Michael was on his way to surgery to fix what x-rays had revealed to be a partially punctured lung. The drug had been a major problem because the lab had had to ID it first before they had been able to decide on an anesthetic.   
Finally, after half an eternity, the door opened again and the doctor walked in, looking a bit worn but pleased. "Mr. Miles, Ms. Barstow," he greeted them. "Michael is out of surgery and doing fine. We expect him to be up and about in the next days, but he needs some more weeks of monitoring.   
Bonnie closed her eyes, exhaling. She had been unaware of holding her breath.   
"But about this wrist cuff...."   
Devon nodded. He knew it was a problem, but one they had to deal with. To his surprise Nicholas had not simply left again but had accompanied them to the hospital and later had gone with the police to sign the protocol. And Nicholas had explained how important it was to keep the damper field active. Kitt was in no shape to bear much of any stress at the moment and Michael was under a lot of stress. If the damper went down, Michael's side of the link would flood Kitt's and the AI would most likely react accordingly.   
"Trust me, I know," Nicholas had said, his serious eyes holding Devon's. "It wouldn't be pretty."   
Devon had had a hard time explaining it to the emergency car doctor, but in the end, since it was not interfering with the surgery as such, they had left it. Devon knew he had to talk about it with Nicholas again.   
"We want to leave it on until Michael has healed enough not to be in constant pain," he explained. "You can talk to the Foundation's doctor if you want to, he can explain more."   
The ER doctor nodded. "I will do that. You two should get some rest now. Michael is asleep and he won't wake and be conscious for real until tomorrow."   
Miles nodded as well and the medic left.   
"Devon, I'd like to stay here," Bonnie began immediately.   
"You can't do anything here. And Kitt needs you as well."   
She bit her lower lip, torn between both her friends, but finally reason won. They left the hospital and drove back to the temporary base in silence, each lost in his or her own thoughts.

* * *

Justin Turner had met Nicholas MacKenzie only once, but he knew enough to let the strange man alone with Kitt when he had been asked to leave. Devon and Bonnie didn't exactly trust him, but he had helped them in the past and he was, for lack of better words, an ally. So Justin had walked out of the garage, knowing Kitt was in good hands, and, after a curious look at the mysterious Stealth, had decided to go for a coffee.   
In the garage Nicholas regarded the silent form of the Knight Two Thousand, fighting a major headache creeping up on him. Karr was with him, a background presence, but still there. He was not responsible for the headache, though. For once. After a strenuous morning at the police Nick had checked on Michael's condition, had wrapped up some of his own business to give him some more time, and finally arrived here. He had to talk to Kitt.   
"Kitt?" he finally asked into the almost oppressive silence.   
"Go away," Kitt answered levelly.   
"I know you hate me for what I did, but it has to be."   
Silence. It was almost comical and Nicholas had to smile ever so slightly, because in this regard Kitt was acting like Karr.   
"It has to be, my friend. Otherwise...."   
"You deny me my right!" Kitt snapped.   
"No, I want to keep you sane."   
"You keep the link blocked! I can't reach Michael!"   
"Michael is in pain. He is drugged, he is suffering, and he is sending out all those emotions through the link," Nicholas said bluntly and saw the scanner flicker. "What do you think would happen if he flooded you? You have gone through a lot, Kitt, and you need time to find back to your old strength. It would drive you insane to feel so much human pain!"   
A whimper escaped the black car. "I need him!" Kitt moaned. "Please...."   
"Yes, you need him. Michael is part of you, just like you are part of Michael. But it's for your best, believe me. Your partner is in so much pain, you would not be able to block it all out."   
"I don't want to block it out....."   
"Do you remember the time Michael was shot?" Nicholas interrupted him rudely.   
Kitt's scanner stopped, then continued slowly. "Yes," he whispered.   
"You remember the pain?"   
"Yes......"   
"The agony of the wound?"   
Kitt cried out softly.   
"You know what it did to you? The slowly cooking madness of alien emotions, alien pain? Someone else suffering and you on the receiving end?"   
A soft keening answered him. Kitt did remember. In all detail. Nicholas hated to shove those dark memories right into the AI's face again, but it was necessary.   
"Do you remember?" he pressed on remorselessly.   
"Yes!" Kitt screamed.   
Nicholas walked toward the shaking car, feeling the pain radiate from it as if he was linked to Kitt himself. He touched the polished frame.   
"Shhhh...." he whispered. "Kitt, what Michael is going through is subconscious for him. He is heavily drugged, a drug that keeps him from feeling his pain, his injuries, but you are not drugged. All he feels and all his brain does not really translate into any kind of conscious sensation, it will come your way. He will drive you mad. I can't let that happen."   
Kitt made choking noises. "Need ....him," he whimpered.   
"I know, I know....." Nicholas' voice was gentle, soft, the hard edge gone. There was only warmth in it. "You will feel him again, but not now. We will take the damper field off, slowly, and you will connect."   
The choking noises continued.   
"Kitt, do you understand what I'm telling you?"   
"Yes," Kitt whispered after some time.   
"Good." He brushed his hand over the car again, smiling softly. Then he turned and started to leave.   
"Nick?"   
Kitt's tentative call stopped him.   
"Yes?" he asked.   
"Would you.... would you mind... staying?"   
Nicholas blinked. His surprise was echoed by Karr, who also registered his suspicion. "Stay? I thought you'd rather be alone than with me....?"   
"No! Not alone!" Kitt exclaimed, panic penetrating his voice. "Please? Stay? And.... I like your company."   
Nicholas nodded and smiled. "Okay, I'll stay." He took a chair and straddled it, looking at the black TransAm.   
"Nick?" Kitt asked again, again sounding hesitant.   
"Yes?"   
"Would you mind a question?"   
He frowned. "About?"   
"About you."   
Something inside of him froze and defensive shields went up automatically. He fought the initial response, knowing who was asking. This was no enemy agent, no opponent. This was a frightened entity.   
"Yes?" he asked slowly.   
"You... you know how I feel. You know how Michael and I felt when the neuro implant was activated," Kitt started carefully. "I know that the Stealth outside is no mere car, but an artificial intelligence Michael and I got to know as Karr. You were supposed to be his driver, but the experiment failed."   
Nicholas felt his stomach clench as Kitt told him the facts he knew only too well. Hearing them delivered in such a clear, calm manner was upsetting in a way.   
"You linked up," Kitt continued. "And you know what it is like to feel the pain."   
"And your question?" Nicholas whispered.   
"Will you tell me about it?"   
Nicholas felt like hit by lightning, his body growing rigid, all alarm bells going off. Karr's mind presence was strangling him, growling, pulling at him, asking him to leave. Somehow he was unable to.   
"That is a very personal request," he finally managed.   
"I know."   
Nicholas' blue eyes fixed on the red scanner, ignoring Karr's demands. He had to decide this, maybe not now, but one day he had to make a decision.   
"I can't tell you everything, Kitt," MacKenzie began after a while. "It is personal. One day maybe, but not today."   
"It is painful?"   
Nicholas closed his eyes. "Yes."   
"Did Karr ever hurt you?"   
He didn't know how innocent those questions were and why Kitt wanted to know; maybe because he needed to take his mind of the dysfunctional link, maybe because he was simply curious.   
Nick.....>   
He swallowed heavily at the suddenly desperate call in his head. It was something neither of them liked to think back to.   
"Yes," he then said softly.   
And it had been bad in the beginning. Very bad.   


Something else in his mind.   
Nausea hitting him, bringing him to his knees, the world doing a merry dance.   
The presence growing stronger, taking over, cold and demanding, ruthless and cruel.   
He was just a mere flesh human, no machine, not superior. He was useless, but he was part of him now.   
"Karr."   
He whispered the name, realization hitting him. Pain swamped behind his eyes and Nicholas heard himself scream.   
Then there was nothing at all.

......

Time passed by.   
He was aware he was not alone.   
A probing in his mind – he fought it.   
Something alien – bile rose in his throat.   
'Why are you here?'   
'I don't know....'   
Endless darkness and the cold that seemed to freeze his brain.   


Nicholas inhaled deeply. Their first months had not been gentle. They had been marked by hostile take-over attempts by Karr and Nicholas fighting him back with all his strength. He had been unable to work, to take on a case or mission, and only because his condition had started to reflect back on Karr had the AI finally stopped; he had learned. Destroy Nicholas and he would destroy himself.   
Today, years later, they were on completely different terms. A state of acceptance had settled in, of partnership, and sometimes Nicholas felt Karr actually care.   
Silence settled over the garage. MacKenzie stared into the distance, battling dark memories.   
"I'm sorry," Kitt whispered after a while. "I didn't intend to hurt you, to rouse unwanted memories."   
Nicholas smiled weakly. "You didn't. It is always there. It will never go away, only get a bit better each day."   
"I understand."   
The lapsed into silence again and this time it was an easier silence. It was the way Justin found them two hours later, Nicholas talking softly to Kitt and the AI listening. Justin didn't understand what it was he was saying, but he saw that it did Kitt some good. And he discovered that the Stealth had moved from its prior position, coming closer. He grinned, took his laptop, and left again.

* * *

Two days had passed since Michael had been hospitalized.   
Two days full of stress and worry for all the involved parties. Michael was out of danger, but his body was rebelling to the treatment. The drug had been isolated and was now out of his abused system, his ribs were healing and his lung was doing okay, but he kept throwing up any kind of solid food and the liquid feed was not helping him regain his strength. He was pale, cheeks slightly sunken, and sick of being in a hospital at all.   
Bonnie had spent those two days with Michael, knowing Kitt in good hands with Justin and even Nicholas. The ex-agent had started to camp out at the temporary base, a small FLAG lab in the vicinity of Las Vegas, but he had been unable to stop Kitt from leaving and starting his own watch in the underground car park. Bonnie watched him sleep now. He had eaten little, his stomach revolting at the sight of food, but he had managed to keep the little she had fed him down. It was painful to see Michael like this, weak and in need of help. It was so totally unlike anything she had ever imagined him to be. He was charming, he was fun, he could be as serious as the rest of them, he could be full of banter. She had never fallen for his rough-hewn, handsome looks because she had thought she knew where he was coming from. And in the beginning that might have been true, but later she had seen behind the mask of the charming playboy-like man who had been given everything by Wilton Knight: good looks, a fast car, money, an adventure. Michael Knight was a serious man and he had had to battle serious problems. She had never known about the nightmares of the first months until he had told her.   
Nightmarish memories of the death of Michael Long.   
A painful recovery.   
Fear of his new looks and the life he had been given.   
Terror because of the expectations set in him.   
He had battled it all and he had come out of it stronger.   
Kitt had been a key factor in that fight and through the AI's unusual help, Michael had learned to accept he was no longer officer Michael Long. In the beginning he had fought the partnership with an artificial life form, a computer on wheels. He had refused to talk to Kitt as if to another human being, but that had changed. Michael had started to talk to Kitt as if it was the most natural thing in the world to make small talk with his car, and through it not only he but also Kitt had grown.   
Bonnie sighed and unconsciously took Michael's hand, interlacing her fingers with his. She had fought against the attraction she had felt at first. She didn't want to fall for it! She had enough problems as it was! But it had slowly gnawed at her, drawn her closer, drawn her to him.   
Maybe Kitt had been another reason why she had fought it. She was Kitt's stepmother in many ways; he was her baby. And Michael Knight had taken her child and changed it from the innocent AI it had been to what Kitt was today. It had been a positive change, one intended by Wilton Knight, but not one approved by the robotics expert who had created this new life. She had been angry, jealous, furious, felt deprived of her right to be there for Kitt. How could this man barge in and take what was rightfully hers? She had seen and called him an arrogant self-centered egomaniac and other names. Bonnie had never known that he had actually been deeply hit by it.   
Now she knew it had been a childish reaction, but in the first few momths she had seen how Michael had treated 'her' child; like a simple computer. She could have strangled him back then, at the time he had first met Kitt, had made contact, had been introduced. She had felt the dejection in Kitt when he had come back from the first mission. Michael had treated him badly, but in the end they had started a fragile friendship. And this friendship had developed into the tight, unbreakable bond it was today.   
Michael loved Kitt as a partner and friend and Kitt returned the feeling. It was no longer a programmed reaction; it was something that had developed.   
Bonnie and Michael, their friendship closed with and through Kitt, had settled into an easy work-related friendship that gradually grew deeper and more intense. She had never considered a closer physical one, but in the back of her mind that idea had started to blossom. Thinking back now, she had always been jealous of his countless 'affairs'. Of course, he had to play along, be the dashing charmer if the case demanded it, but she had always spun the relationship one more step, had thought of him in bed with one of these women and she had felt tears of anger and frustration rise.   
She didn't see herself as in the same league with those beauties. They had the looks, the body, maybe not the brains, but definitely the appearance to make a man swoon; and Michael always liked to play along. Bonnie Barstow was just a tech head, a scientist at home to fix Kitt when he needed it. Had Michael ever seen anything else in her? Sure, he had made attempts in the beginning; attempts met by frosty replies and resistance. He had given up after a while, the banter still there but no serious intention behind it all. It had changed once more.   
When?   
Bonnie rubbed her thumb over the limp hand. Yes, when? It had been before the shooting, before Bobbie Zane, before the link. It had been slowly boiling inside, but courage had failed her. And when Michael had been shot, nearly died in the hospital, and when the neuro implant had been revealed, so had been her feelings. She had expected Michael to use them, to use her, though she didn't know why. He was a warm and caring person, not a playboy to jump the opportunity and then drop her like an unwanted toy. He had responded, carefully, hesitantly, testing how far he could go. She remembered his looks, his small smiles, a touch here or there, his hands massaging her shoulders. It had ignited warm and fuzzy feelings inside her she hadn't felt for a long time.   
She felt set back into her teenage years.   
Bonnie sighed and had to smile at the secret little smiles and the gentle moments when they were alone for once.

Michael bent forward and she felt his lips on hers. It was a gentle kiss, a tenuous one, slowly deepening. Bonnie parted her lips and the two stood locked in their embrace, gently probing each others mouths.   
After a long moment, Michael broke the kiss and smiled down at her, brushing a thumb over her cheek.

The fuzzy feeling returned and she felt herself blush. She was a grown woman, for crying out loud!   
Suddenly Michael's hand twitched and Bonnie tried to remove her hand, but Michael's fingers weakly curled around hers.   
"Hi," he whispered, smiling. "What a nice way to wake up."   
Bonnie felt another blush creep up on her and slipped on a mask of annoyance. "You can't be all that bad off if you already start advancing on the female sex again!" she muttered but didn't pull her hand away.   
"Not the female sex in general," he replied softly, holding her gaze with his slightly blurred eyes. "You."   
The smile spread over her face before she could stop it.   
"Kitt?" Michael suddenly asked, hope and fear in his voice.   
"He is parked in the garage and refusing to leave."   
Michael lifted the other hand and frowned at the still present wrist cuff. "Why?" he wanted to know.   
"Nicholas warned us about the effects it might have on Kitt if you started projecting your subconscious pain and fear, all your nightmares, into him. Kitt seems to understand. I think Nick talked to him."   
"Oh," Michael said weakly.   
Bonnie cringed at the dejection in his voice. Like Kitt he had been deprived of input, something he had never had before until nearly half a year ago and something he now missed like he would miss his eye-sight.   
"I got you a new com link," she added and held up the watch. "You and Kitt can talk whenever you feel like it. I know it's not like the link, but it will help you." She handed the watch to Michael, who took it with a grateful expression in his eyes. "It can't substitute closeness, though."   
Michael met her serious, compassionate gaze and swallowed. "What did Kitt....tell you about... about what happened?" he finally asked.   
"Not a lot. He refuses to surrender personal details and I understand that what happened in the cell might be .... very private."   
Michael closed his eyes. "In a way it was." He weakly squeezed her hand. "But it also brought us closer in a way... I never thought possible as well."   
And then, with a hesitant voice, he told her about what had happened. About the CPU casing. The damage. Kitt's fear. His need to be held. How Michael had touched the sensor. Bonnie gasped silently as she heard it and finally understood where the damage to the casing had come from. They had used a crowbar or worse to get it out of the car body! Rage rose inside her and if one of the men had been present, Bonnie would have introduced him to her fury. And she knew why Kitt's read-outs had shown an incredible amount of sensor input all of a sudden.   
Michael.   
Michael's touch.   
"I never knew he ... that... the sensor was so... important to him," she finally stuttered.   
She felt cheated in a way. Kitt had always shut it off when she had come close. True, she had approached it with a tool, something that might hurt him, but he had never told her it might be an input device of such a proportion. Then again, had he even known before Michael had experimentally brushed over it? Probably not.   
"Bonnie?"   
She jerked out of her thoughts and looked into his exhausted, pale face. "Yes?"   
"Is there a way to.... duplicate the access to him?"   
She blinked, then understood. A sensor somewhere where Michael could reach Kitt. It was a fascinating idea. "I'd have to think about it, talk to Justin...." she muttered, forehead wrinkled in thought.   
He smiled. "Thank you."   
Bonnie returned the smile and brushed some strands of hair out of his face. "You just concentrate on getting better; we'll handle the rest."   
"Thanks. For everything."   
Exhaustion claimed him again and Michael's eyes slid shut. Bonnie leaned forward and kissed him gently, then left the sleeping man alone.

* * *

Kitt was parked in the underground car park and had been so for three days now. From the outside he seemed to be calm and under control, but inside his CPU he was suffering. Michael was several levels above him, sleeping, regularly checked by nurses, visited by Devon and Bonnie, and Kitt couldn't do anything; not even visit. Nicholas had explained to him that Michael was still drugged with mild painkillers, that the link had been under a lot of stress because of it, and that the kidnappers had actively disrupted the chip's functions. Kitt had felt incredibly anger rise inside of him. They had dared to attack the most intimate link between them!   
He cried out in pain at the memory of the separation.   
Michael? he whispered.   
He tried to access the link but was greeted by nothingness. A futile move, one he repeated every hour and would repeat until he could finally get an answer. He knew it was impossible to have a response, but he still tried. And failed.   
Michael? Please?   
Still no answer.   
Kitt's repeated screams echoed inside his CPU.   
He needed the contact. Badly. He had grown incredibly dependent on the neuro implant, even though they had only discovered it about six months ago. Michael's soft presence in the background of his mind had been something to get used to at first, but now he couldn't imagine a moment without him. The neuro implant was a way for him to give Michael what his driver had given him over the last eight years. He had never been able to get really close to Michael, to hug him, to touch him, just to be there for comfort. Humans tended to hug each other, to take one's hand, to lay a hand on the other's shoulder. It was their way of communicating without words. Kitt had not been able to do that. The neuro implant had opened up incredible and undreamt of ways for him.   
Please!   
Michael was so close but not close enough. Kitt felt his insides clench. He had thought he had lost him. He had thought his new life was at an end. He had felt the blackness, the desperation, crowd him with a vengeance. Part of him had died..... He would have killed that man if MacKenzie had not interfered. He wouldn't have thought twice.   
He couldn't lose Michael.   
It was his worst nightmare. Michael was his safety, his comfort, his partner and his best friend. If Michael quit FLAG he could go with him, one way or the other, but if he actually died.... Kitt shied away from the thought. He wouldn't be able to take it.   
Bonnie had tried to talk him into waiting at home, but he neither had the nerve nor the patience for it. She had then taken a new com link and delivered it to Michael's bedside. At least this way he could hear Michael's soft breathing, his snores and murmurs now and then. It told him his friend was alive.   
Alive.....   
Kitt clung to that word like a drowning person.   
Alive, alive, alive.   
Geiger had been arrested for kidnapping, theft, attempted murder in two cases, and more. He was currently in custody and Devon was making sure he wouldn't get out on bail.   
"Kitt?"   
Kitt jumped and a happy burble escaped his voice box before he could control himself. "Michael?"   
He hadn't heard his partner's voice for such a long time! How he longed for the implant to work!   
"Hi, Pal," Michael said weakly. "How are you?"   
"I am fine, Michael."   
There was a pause and Kitt knew Michael didn't believe him at all. Kitt wasn't fine. Oh, sure, his body had been repaired, the CPU sat snugly back where it belonged, all connections had been renewed, and he was whole again. Except for one missing part; one very vital part. Michael Knight.   
"I'll be out of here by tomorrow. Bonnie said you are camping out in the car park?" Amusement could be heard.   
"I'm not 'camping out', Michael," Kitt replied, rising to the banter. "I'm regularly parked."   
"I hope you don't expect me to pay the parking fee."   
"I *am* registered to your name," Kitt pointed out.   
"Then I think I need to talk to Devon about my expenses again," Michael chuckled.   
Kitt felt good talking to his friend like this, but the underlying worry didn't go away. The need for the neuro link could not be taken. He wished he could be closer, in Michael's room, watching his partner, but he couldn't. He had to make do with what he had right now and it was more than he had had the last forty-eight hours, the time Michael had spent sleeping and recuperating from the effects of the drug. He still remembered the gentle touch of his hands on the outside sensor, the warmth of his body curled around him in the cell....   
"Pal?" Michael's voice interrupted the train of memories.   
"Yes, Michael?"   
"Nicholas said we will take the dampers off tomorrow," he explained, voice gentle, understanding, reassuring.   
Kitt hungered for that day. Because of the pain Michael had been in and the effects the sudden bombardment with these extreme emotions it might have on Kitt, Nicholas had told Bonnie and Devon that it would be best to leave this 'damper field' up until Michael was better. Kitt had not agreed, at least on the inside. He had raged and screamed, but to the outside world he had been calm and understanding.   
Tomorrow.   
One more day.   
"I know," he finally answered.   
Tomorrow, when Michael was released from hospital and finally back home.   
"Good night, Pal."   
"Good night," Kitt said softly and soon he heard only Michael's regular breathing.

* * *

Nicholas stood in the empty mansion, feeling memories press in on him, fighting them back with all his power. He didn't know why he was still here. He had no idea at all. Michael had been released from hospital this morning and Nicholas knew he wasn't needed to take off the damper field. Bonnie was perfectly able to do that. They had found a way to switch it off, to give Michael and Kitt a chance to be alone when it happened, and Nicholas had done his share already. More than necessary maybe. Still, he was here.   
He walked through the empty house, the soft ticking of the grandfather clock his only companion. He took in the old furniture, the carpets, the pictures, the general feel of the house. Nothing had changed; it still looked the way he had last seen it, with a few minor differences.   
He had been here over eight years ago.   
He had left part of his life outside to start anew.   
And part of him had died in here.   
Nicholas shivered and felt his partner's worried presence. Karr didn't feel well here either. It was the place of his birth and the place of his death; just like it was for Nicholas. They had a very common past, a common base for emotions, but still they were different enough not to be alike. Right now though, both their memories were mixing into one and Nicholas suddenly got a good dosage of what it was like to be a guinea pig from Karr's point of view.   
"I'm okay," he whispered.   
You are not>   
There it was again; the completion of the link in a way that repulsed Nicholas, but also was now very much a part of him. Something drifted inside him. Someone was with him, keeping him company but also far away, not daring to touch. It was alien, it was sometimes extremely violent..... and very much part of him.   
Karr.....> He stumbled a bit.   
I am here>   
Nicholas closed his eyes, leaning against the wall. They were both afraid of the past and both confronted with it every day they stayed here. Karr was a soothing presence as well as an invasion in his mind and his body never knew how to react to the personal contact. The same went for Karr's feelings concerning this way of communicating. But Nicholas had one major advantage: he was adaptable, infinitely more than his partner.   
"We can do it," he said almost to himself.   
Agreement floated through him. As much as Karr hated the link he had to a human, right now he relied heavily on it.   
Nicholas left the mansion, slowly, steps measured. He walked over to the Stealth, climbing inside, the door of it opening automatically.   
"Why do you torture yourself with this?" Karr asked when he simply leaned back, closing his eyes.   
"Because we have to come to terms with what happened... there."   
"I can deal with it."   
Nicholas smiled every so faintly. "That's not what I just felt and heard."   
Karr growled softly. "You misheard."   
He knew he hadn't, only that his partner was not willing to openly admit to a weakness. They were really too much alike for their own good. Maybe it would one day be their downfall.   
"Let's get away for a while," MacKenzie finally decided.   
Karr was only too happy to comply. As they left the premises, Nick felt him relax a bit and his own tensions drained away.   
Damn you, Wilton Knight, for what you did! Your experiments, your dreams and the nightmares you created!   
And the friendship.   
A nightmare! We were used as guinea pigs and had no choice!   
Damn you all the way to hell!   
Knight probably was in hell, but it gave Nick little comfort. He had to stop the car, breathing hard at the memories now flooding back.   
Just a little surgery. Just a few metal parts in his head. A new chance, a new life, but no one had ever mentioned the consequences.   
"Nicholas?"   
The voice was quiet, unlike the normal cold projection of barely contained annoyance of having to communicate with a human partner, the chilled tones of a being unused to expressing his emotions.   
"I'm.... okay," he managed.   
"Would you prefer a separation?"   
His head snapped around to stare at the slightly futuristic dash. "What?" he croaked.   
"It is possible now. The cuff Knight wears, the damper field, would work."   
A myriad of thoughts and emotions raced through him. Yes, he had thought about it. Yes, he had chased the idea away. Yes, it was tempting. To be alone again, without the other presence in his mind, a cold and something cruel presence, but also someone who could understand. Who showed that all the years had changed him. Karr's defenses against his driver, his partner, had been broken a long time ago, but he denied a confession.   
"You would be alone again," the Stealth added reasonably, but because the voice was so level, so much missing sarcasm and taunting, Nicholas knew it was getting to him. "I would finally be rid of you," Karr added, attempting to sound like his old, cruel self.   
But Nicholas had heard the tremor.   
"No," he then said. "I won't try it."   
His hand brushed over the sensor, fleetingly, barely even touching it, but Karr jumped for the touch before he could control his reaction.   
MacKenzie smiled dimly and then simply sat in the parked car, enjoying the view, the silence, the closeness.   
It had been worth it.   
Somehow.   
But I still damn you, Knight! he thought harshly.

* * *

The spot he had chosen was secluded, far away from every tourist spot or popular place, but still close enough to home that they would be able to return quickly if needed. Michael knew Devon had made sure there would be no such need any time soon. He looked at the wrist cuff, something he had almost grown used to. Bonnie had explained to him how to tune down the damper field and then finally shut it off, and he had every intention to take it slowly.   
First he needed to remove the electrode. He pulled it off, the sticky pad clinging to his skin, and regarded the tiny device, part of a larger machine that had kept him and Kitt apart.   
Most of his injuries had healed and if his ribs continued mending like they did, he would be back in shape in two or three more weeks. The twinges were something of a daily event and he mostly ignored them; the twinges from the missing link to his partner were much worse. He had spent all his time with Kitt, being there, talking, reassuring, and it as not enough.   
But today the damper field would go.   
"Ready?" he asked, voice shaking a bit.   
"As ready as I will ever be." Hope and need swung in his partner's voice.   
And fear. Michael knew the fear; they had once talked about it.   
What if they couldn't get back what had been before?   
What if it no longer functioned like before?   
What if the link was forever destroyed?   
Kitt had nearly lost it in his panic then, only reassured by Michael's presence at the time.   
Now Michael depressed a flat sensor button on the wrist cuff and suddenly there was a faint stinging sensation in the back of his mind. It grew into a tingle, a faint buzz. He turned down the input of the shield one by one and the sensations grew.   
Closing his eyes he leaned into the seat, trying to relax.   


The link stood and Kitt felt like being reborn. Michael's presence was overwhelming, calming, satisfying.... He touched the implant, feeling his human friend shiver, opening up, relaxing. Kitt was careful not to lose his tight control, to fling himself forward and envelop his partner. It would only hurt Michael and hurting him was the last he wanted to do.   


Michael, eyes still closed, felt the implant power up, felt Kitt close the distance. A whisper of ....something ... raced down from his neck along his spine. He gasped faintly at the wonderfully familiar feeling. He also sensed his careful approach, the hesitation.   
"Kitt...." he said.   
Kitt whimpered. He was yearning for and afraid of the link in one. And suddenly the link stood completely. Michael bit back a moan at the sudden intense sensation and Kitt hummed in terror.   
"You are not hurting me," Michael told him with a rough voice. He had been without Kitt for nearly two weeks and the hole in his mind was still sending out aching signals, now overlapping with the powerful presence of Kitt. "Let it go completely."   
Another whimper answered him and he leaned forward, reaching for Kitt's dash, stroking it.   
"Kitt, it's okay. I'm fine. You won't hurt me.... You could never hurt me."   
"Michael, I have... I didn't want to.... I thought..." Kitt stuttered. "I thought you had died," he then cried softly, the wall around his pent-up emotions breaking.   
Michael hugged the steering wheel in desperation as he heard his partner's voice. Kitt's misery hit him like a sledge hammer, drowning him and he fought to stay on top. "Oh, Kitt, no!" he managed.   
"And I was ready to ... to kill that man," Kitt whispered in self-recrimination.   
Michael felt tears gather in his eyes and drip onto the wheel. "No, you wouldn't have, Pal," he whispered. "I know it. You would never kill someone like that."   
"I was so close...."   
"Shhhh, Kitt, everything is okay now."   
Michael tried to project his care, his understanding, his belief and confidence, his love for his partner through the link. Kitt needed him just as much as he needed Kitt, but right now the AI was torturing himself with what had happened.   
"You did nothing wrong," he murmured, wishing he could touch the sensor as he had done in the cell. "I'm proud of you, Kitt. I always will be."   
Kitt made an unintelligible noise and Michael sensed the hesitant probing again. Though Kitt was projecting, he had not fully opened his side of the implant.   
"You can link," he encouraged his still hesitant partner. "It's okay."   
And then Kitt's presence was overwhelming in his mind. He closed his eyes again, inhaling deeply, putting up no resistance, simply letting Kitt touch him. He would never be able to describe what it felt like, what it meant to him, to both of them. An outsider couldn't have this insight, though Michael knew Bonnie was trying to understand. Still, she could never take the last step and experience it for herself.   
Kitt held on to him, unable to let go, revelling in the feeling of his driver connected to him again. His embrace was the most beautiful feeling.

* * *

Nicholas MacKenzie sat in the sun outside on the terrace of the Knight estate, the imposing headquarters of FLAG that sometimes appeared to him like a medieval castle, swirling his iced tea, watching Michael Knight jog another round. Five weeks had passed since the rescue in the desert and he was still here. Or here again, he thought dryly. He didn't know why, but for the first time he was feeling relatively relaxed so close to any premise owned by FLAG. He couldn't say so for Karr, who was parked in the shade of some trees, blending in with the shadows.   
Relax> he whispered and, with a certain amount of satisfaction, noted that his partner didn't like this way of communicating either. They had to really delve into it and for both it was an emergency communications way, not something to use regularly. And for Nicholas it was a way to tease the AI, mainly because he was growing better at it and Karr was struggling with his emotional responses.   
I am> was the now cold reply.   
Nicholas chuckled and sipped at his tea.   
Kitt had come out of this experience shaken but okay, and it would take some time getting him to relax as well. He was almost possessively claiming Michael's end of their connection and it would be problematic if it continued throughout their next case. That was why Nicholas was still here. It had been a request from Devon.

"I know it is not in your job description, Nicholas, but I have an offer to make."   
Nicholas raised a dark eyebrow.   
"You have more knowledge about this neuro implant than any of us could ever claim. We are stumbling around in the dark here, mostly Michael and Kitt, and computer files don't help," Devon went on, fixing him with his eyes. "You have been working and living with a live implant for years now and I think I could call you experienced."   
Nicholas was still silent, not yet sure where this was leading.   
"My offer is as follows: I want you to help Michael and Kitt. Maybe in the way you helped them the first time, half a year ago. Maybe differently. Whatever needs to be done. I never imagined this whole implant business could lead here." Devon sighed. "We need help with this and you...."   
"I am the next best thing you can think of," Nicholas finished, smiling humorlessly. "Not your first choice, I think, but the only one you have right now."   
Devon mimicked that smile. "In a way. FLAG will pay you, of course. I think I know your daily rate."   
"I am not a teacher, Devon."   
"We can double your fee."   
"This is not a matter of money. It's a matter of what I am."   
"Nicholas, I honestly don't care what you are or what you were. I want the best for Michael and Kitt, and currently you are that best thing. Do you want them to go through what you and Karr had to go through?"   
Nicholas felt a muscle in his cheek twitch.   
"What they have gone through was bad already, and it can get worse, right? Do you want this? Do you want that pain?" Devon demanded angrily, losing his usual British cool.   
"Cheap shot, Devon," Nicholas growled.   
"Yes, cheap maybe, but the only shot I have left! Nicholas, we need help!"

And in the end he had agreed. It wouldn't be easy and most of all he had to teach them what else there was to this link. He and Karr had discovered it one by one and each time it had been a sickening and frightening experience, followed by terrorizing nightmares. No, he didn't want Michael and Kitt to experience it. That was why he had agreed in the end, not even mentioning any payment. He could deal with that later. He would take an indefinite break from his job and see what would develop.   
The first step had been introducing Kitt to a way to dampen the pain impulses, to handle the stress of a human under pain. Unlike Karr he had not really shied away from the extreme emotions, at least not now, because he wanted to be close to Michael, and he had to learn not to cling, not to possess.   
Nicholas was patient. He had time. Karr might not share this patience, but he would learn through it as well. He already had, mainly keeping his surging emotions under control when it came to FLAG and being near its members. He didn't talk to any of them, least of all Devon or Kitt, but that was fine with Nicholas. It was bad enough to have reflections of nightmares before he fell asleep and battling demons at night.   
An apology coursed through, a brief surge of energy, a spike of softness, then it was gone again. Nick smiled ever so slightly, rubbing his neck.   
"It's all right," he only whispered. "And you are slipping."   
The gentleness was replaced by annoyance, as always when Nick started teasing the machine connected to him. Karr did care, he knew, but he hated to show it. And he hated it even more if he was reminded of that particular fact.   
Michael arrived back on the terrace, taking two steps at a time. He poured himself some iced tea as well and drank it slowly. He was breathing hard, out of shape from being down too long, and Nicholas knew it would take some time for him to get back to normal. And he would never be the same again.   
"Ready for some more?" he now asked.   
Michael nodded, toweling off his face. "Give me a few to grab a shower and we can continue where we left off yesterday."   
"Is Kitt with you right now?"   
Michael nodded.   
"Okay. See you in the garage."   
Michael trotted off into the mansion and Nicholas watched the now empty tracks. He had jogged his own rounds here before sunrise. Karr had been here with him and they had talked, alternating between vocal and mental voice, training here as well as being trained. It was a weakness. Nicholas hate weaknesses.   
He also had to talk to Bonnie Barstow. She was involved in the whole healing and learning process as well, maybe more than she thought. She was Kitt's stepmother, she was very close to Michael Knight, and she was both their doctor and confident. She was important.   
Nicholas wondered how long it would take until this would be an easy implant-enhanced partnership. Then again, he had time. There was no hurry.

* * *

Michael felt apprehension and a slight nervousness rise inside of him as he walked into the lab. Bonnie was present, hunched over Kitt's open hood, working on something only she seemed to understand. As Michael entered she looked up and smiled, straightening. She eased the hood shut and wiped her hands on a slightly dirty rag.   
"We are done," she proclaimed with a certain amount of pride.   
Nervousness coursed through him once more, enhanced by what Kitt felt himself. They were done. The sensor was installed. Michael licked his lips.   
"Where?" he only asked.   
"Well, we had to come up with a place where Kitt is close to you so you can reach him without aerobics, but also somewhere you wouldn't accidentally hurt him."   
Michael was about to protest that he would never hurt his partner, but then stopped. Understanding rose inside him. Bonnie motioned him to follow her and he walked to the open driver's door.   
"Sit," Bonnie ordered and he eased himself onto the seat with a grin. "The sensor is located on the steering column," she then explained. "It will allow you access when you...." she stopped, unsure all of a sudden.   
"When I hug Kitt," Michael finished with a smile.   
"Yes."   
Michael leaned forward and saw the velvety black sensor, a rectangle a bit smaller than the palm of his hand but large enough to allow some room for comforting strokes.   
"Kitt can tune down or boost the input rate," Bonnie went on. "He can also switch it off completely. It isn't a copy of the CPU sensor but a new development. It allows a more accurate transmission rate."   
"Did you test it?"   
"No." She shook her head. "Not directly anyway. We went over the sensory input rate and Kitt can feel the data coming in and process it, but we didn't do...errrr...field tests."   
Michael chuckled. He hesitantly reached out, then stopped.   
"Kitt?"   
"It's okay," Kitt answered calmly, though there was a soft vibration of expectation in his voice.   
Michael brushed his finger tips over the sensor and was rewarded with a wave of shivers and joy through the implant, a projection so intense Michael felt like he was receiving a hug. Warm affection flooded his system. He covered the sensor with his palm and Kitt's presence intensified, sending back what he was feeling. When he looked up he saw Bonnie smiling almost motherly.   
"Thanks," he told her, emotions showing in the one word uttered in a near-whisper.   
"You are welcome." She was about to go and Michael quickly got out of the car, sending an apology toward Kitt.   
"Bonnie?"   
"Yes?"   
Michael drew her close for a moment and kissed her, feeling her surprise, then her surrender. He held her close after their lips had separated, hugging her tightly.   
"Thank you for everything," he murmured into her ear.   
Bonnie snuggled close, savoring the moment of intimacy. "Everything for my favorite team," she teased.   
Michael chuckled. "We are your only team."   
"So?"   
He tickled her and she squealed, wriggling out of his embrace. "Unfair!"   
"Hey! All's fair in love and war."   
A small blush crept over her cheeks, then she did something totally un-Bonnie like and stuck out her tongue. Michael only grinned and watched her leave the lab, giving the two partners some needed time alone. Michael sat back on the driver's seat, smiling to himself.   
"How do you feel?" he then asked his partner.   
"I feel very good," was the immediate answer and another surge of happiness met Michael's end of the implant link.   
Now he reached out and touched the sensor again. "Is it like the sensor on the casing?" he asked, marveling at the softness of the material it was made of.   
The answer was a surge of emotional energy that let him close his eyes in content. It was even better, Kitt tried to tell him. Warmth enveloped him, compassion and love.   
"Good," he murmured and did what he had started to do lately: hugging the steering wheel.   
Kitt returned the hug through the implant and felt Michael's smile, his every reaction to the touch. He hummed softly, happy and pleased to have Michael near.

* * *

Bonnie had closed the lab for the night, feeling pleased with herself, walking down the twilight corridor back to the mansion. She made an automatic detour around the parking spot of the Stealth. Karr was not parked inside the garage, something Nicholas had told them was Karr's own wish. He had been in for some servicing, something she had refused to do when Devon had called her to ask if there was room. Devon had only smiled slightly and told her that Nicholas was doing the servicing. Surprised, she had gone down and he had actually already started.

Nicholas MacKenzie was bent over the open hood and was aligning or adjusting something, two monitors showing Karr's read-outs left of him. Bonnie glanced at the graphs and noted that they were far different from what she had seen the first and last time she had been forced to service the deadly machine. As she came in, MacKenzie looked up, eyebrows rising.   
"Don't tell me you are also a robotics expert and mechanic as well," Bonnie said by ways of a greeting, peeking into the engine compartment of the car. The sight greeting her was unfamiliar and not like Kitt's engine.   
"No, I only substitute as one," Nicholas answered.   
"Talented," she remarked.   
"Not quite. I know the basics and do emergency repairs, but the big stuff is out of my league – even with guidance from the involved party." At her questioning looks he added, "I know people who can help."   
"Ah."   
"And you don't have to help, Dr. Barstow," Nicholas told her. "I know you are not enthused about this and neither am I, but Karr needs some servicing. We'll leave the lab as we found it, don't worry."   
Bonnie was surprised and felt embarrassment rise inside her. "No," she finally said. "It's not that. I just need to get used to having ... him around." She nodded slightly toward the Stealth.   
Karr was silent, his blackness emanating from him in vicious waves and Bonnie shivered. She knew she was imagining this, but he was like an evil twin of Kitt and she would always view him like that. She rarely went this close to Karr and always made sure MacKenzie was around. Nicholas nodded now. She suspected he knew what had happened all those years ago, about her kidnapping and how she had been forced to work on the damaged machine. She hated Karr, but he was Nicholas MacKenzie's partner, bonded to him by Wilton Knight's neuro implant experiment.   
"If you need fuel or parts...." she started.   
Nicholas shook his head. "No. The tank has an adequate filling and I have a fuel source. As for parts, we can manage. Different source, same effect."   
Bonnie looked at him, wondering where all of his knowledge, his connections, his resources came from. Devon had once mentioned that Nicholas was a highly-paid professional in his field and chose which case or mission to take. His money was stored on different accounts in different countries under different names. Devon didn't know all the facts, but he knew MacKenzie had the money he needed to get what he wanted.

She was still trying to figure this partnership out. Karr's basic programming should have forbidden any kind of bond forming between him and a human being, but the implant had probably overridden a lot of those basic commands. Not all and not completely, but most of them anyway. A lot of the cold logic Karr had displayed in their prior encounters had vanished. She suspected he was not past self-preservation, but he was stoppable – by Nicholas MacKenzie.   
Then there were those little things; things someone else might not notice, but Bonnie had experience when it came to Kitt and Michael. The smirks, the softening expressions, the chuckles, and the banter. Karr usually kept his silence when someone else was around and he wasn't asked to answer a question. But she had listened in to a conversation once, a little teasing and some banter, and it had surprised her how Karr had changed.   
Bonnie walked by the small kitchen that had been installed whenever one of the techs or mechanics wanted to use a microwave or oven. She poured herself some coffee and walked on to her room. Having Karr around was something she might never get used to, but right now it was because Nicholas was a key factor in helping Michael and Kitt. She had seen the progress, though she not always approved of the methods. MacKenzie worked with both ruthlessness and gentle words. Bonnie had realized that both was necessary, but it was straining, and Michael and Kitt had to go through a lot. But it was worth it. She had seen the success, the happiness in them both.   
Closing the door after her Bonnie dropped the print-outs on her desk and kicked off her shoes. It was only around seven but she felt kind of tired. Weekend was coming up and she had no idea what to do with her days off. There was no mission, so she was not needed to go out with the Semi, and the other techs were taking care of some of the experimental stuff she had scheduled and already set up. Justin and O'Malley had left for a evening out in town.   
Bonnie switched on her PowerBook and logged into FLAGNet, intent to get some long pushed-off paperwork done. She had come as far as getting her work load on screen when someone knocked tentatively at the door. She sighed deeply and called, "Yes?"   
"Bonnie, it's Michael. I know it's late...."   
"Come in!" She had to smile.   
The door opened and Michael stuck his head in, still hesitant. "You sure? I know you have a lot of work...."   
Bonnie grinned. "Get in!"   
Michael smiled and slipped in, closing the door.   
"What's up?" she asked lightly.   
To her eyes Michael appeared slightly tense, even worried.   
"Something wrong with Kitt? Or the implant?" she hazarded a guess, hoping it was not true.   
"No!" he immediately calmed her. "No, no, everything is fine between us. Better even." A tender expression crossed his features and Bonnie felt herself relax. "Thanks again for installing the sensor, Bon."   
She nodded. "No problem. You ask, we deliver. All part of the service."   
Michael shook his head. "No, this time it wasn't part of the service. This went past everything and I'm forever grateful." He smiled again and she saw how deeply it had touched him.   
"Is Kitt handling it okay?"   
"Yeah. It takes some getting used to, just like for me, but it helps us both."   
Bonnie nodded, then remembered Michael had come here for a reason. "Now, what do I owe you this visit to?"   
She wasn't afraid that this was a blatant move on her. Eight years ago she would have suspected something like this, that Michael Knight would try anything to get into her bedroom, but not now. Michael had something on his mind and he hadn't been able to wait till tomorrow morning.   
"It's.... well, with the kidnapping and the whole mess afterwards, I totally forgot about your birthday," he started, embarrassment in his voice.   
Bonnie blinked. Her birthday? It hadn't been such a big deal. She never celebrated it anyway and except for the congratulations from her fellow technicians and co-workers, as well as a flower bouquet from Devon, there had never been any extraordinary events. She had never really done anything remotely close to a party. She had always had too much to do anyway. And Michael had usually given her flowers or something like that as well.   
"Oh, that's okay," Bonnie started, then stuttered into silence when he held a tiny present out to her.   
Bonnie looked into Michael's eyes, saw hope and fear mixed into one there, and wondered what this was all about. She carefully took the small box, raising an eyebrow.   
"Uhm, happy birthday," Michael said quickly, stepping back as if he was afraid she might throw it at him.   
"What is it?" she asked.   
Michael shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "Something," he mumbled.   
Bonnie ripped open the paper and was confronted with a box usually used to keep jewelry in. Her eyebrows rose even more.   
"Uhm...." Michael made as she opened it.   
Bonnie's eyes widened. The small box contained a silver necklace with an amulet on it. She took it with careful fingers and held it up in front of her eyes. The silver shone softly in the artificial light of the room and she saw that her initials had been engraved on it. She stared at Michael, who was blushing now.   
"Michael?"   
That thing must have cost a fortune and though Michael Knight had Wilton Knight's name, he was not a millionaire!   
"Ah...I... you can.... return it if you don't like it...."   
Bonnie ran her fingers over the silver amulet and felt the ridges. It was a locket! She cracked it open and gasped faintly. The locket contained two pictures, one of Kitt and one of Michael. They were tiny, but they had been taken recently.....   
"It's beautiful," she breathed.   
"Uhm, you think so?" Michael asked hesitantly. He looked as nervous as a teenager on his first date.   
Bonnie closed the distance and hugged him. "Yes! Michael, it's wonderful! Thank you!"   
He hugged her back and kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad. Oh, and Kitt chose it."   
Bonnie drew back. "What?" she laughed.   
He grinned, embarrassed again. "I wanted to give you a framed picture but I was afraid you might hit me over the head with it. Kitt wanted to put only his picture inside and then I was afraid I might hit him over the CPU with it. We finally settled on the locket."   
Bonnie shook her head. "Idiot," she laughed good-naturedly.   
"And since we had no party," Michael went on, not inclined to let her go – and Bonnie was feeling quite warm in his arms, "I ordered out for your favorite Chinese and got us some movies. So, you want to share a nice friendly evening in front of the TV and some fast food between us? No second thoughts intended!" he added quickly. Then his eyes fell on the still open laptop and his mouth drew down a bit. "Oh, I don't want to keep you from work...."   
Bonnie quickly shook her head. "No, no! I can catch up on it later! One more day won't change the load. And TV sounds quite..... nice. Hadn't had Chinese in ages either. Ko's?"   
Michael gave her a happy grin. "Of course!"   
They left for the small TV room on this floor of the mansion, hand in hand, feeling warm and content with each other.   


Kitt sat in the garage, sensing echoes of Michael's well-being, feeling happy himself. He didn't understand all human emotions quite yet, but he was learning, and riding in the back of Michael's mind was an assurance he would learn quickly. He settled back for the night, switched off all major functions and went into a mode that was close to what a human would call 'sleeping'.   
Michael's mind was a constant presence, warm and alive, in his CPU.   
  



End file.
